


Hydra's Revenge

by QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds



Series: Slow Burn! The Series - with eventual Stony [9]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (for Steve and Tony because they haven't talked yet...), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, But a lot of hurt in the beginning, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Crack and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Don't mess with Tony Stark, Everyone Loves Tony Stark, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone gets a Hug - eventually, Family, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Found Family, He is literally a Sunshine, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt Winter, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), I'll tag more when I think of the rest, I'm not kidding, Idiots in Love, IronDad and SpiderSon, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oblivious Idiots Everywhere, Parent Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Plot, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-HYDRA Reveal, Press and Tabloids, Protective Avengers, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Clint Barton, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Thor (Marvel), Protective winter, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, There will be a happy ending, Thor is a Good Bro (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Winter is a good bro, different POVs, don't mess with the Avengers, eventually, injured Tony Stark, seriously, slowest of burns, we acknowledge that cannon exists and then ignore it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29560662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds
Summary: After weeks of unrest that have put the Avengers through the wringer, everything is finally calming down. Tony is doing better, Winter is doing better and Steve has (mostly of his own free will, thanks Nat) decided that he will tell Tony how he feels.When the remnants of Hydra target one of their own, the Avengers know that they can’t rest until they found every last one of them.Trying to take over the world is one thing. But trying to kill one of them is unforgivable. They aren't called the Avengers for nothing.This is angst with some fluff, and angst and some crack and angst. Also, it’s angsty.Happy Ending guarantied!
Relationships: (pre Bruce Banner/Thor), (pre Steve Rogers/Tony Stark), Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Bruce Banner/Thor, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Loki & Avengers Team, Loki & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Winter, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark & Thor, Winter & Avengers Team
Series: Slow Burn! The Series - with eventual Stony [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978705
Comments: 223
Kudos: 68





	1. Steve: The Press Conference

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone new: Welcome to Slow Burn – The Series!
> 
> If you don’t want to read all the other instalments here a very short summary: A lot had happened, they have all suffered at my hands (sorry?) and are basically just starting to recovery from multiple kidnappings, near death experiences and thinking Tony was dead like 2 or 3 times.  
> Winter is with the Avengers for like a couple of weeks and is still working a lot of stuff out. Important info: he is not Bucky any longer. The chair destroyed his memories.  
> Steve is, in fact gay, but aside from Nat, Clint, Bruce and Thor no one knows.  
> They are all a mess, tbh.
> 
> For my beloved long-suffering readers: welcome back! 
> 
> I plotted this thing for five days straight. A shoutout to some of you who suffered greatly by listening to my whining. 
> 
> Now: Enjoy! (…or try to…)

Tonight was the night. 

Tonight, Steve would tell Tony that he loved him. That he was  _ in love _ with him. 

Tonight, he would tell his love that he would accept anything Tony was willing to give him and that he would stay his friend and family if that was what Tony wanted. 

There was a slight chance, Steve might run before tonight happened. 

Exhaling harshly, Steve squared his shoulders. No. Tonight, he would tell Tony how he felt and then… then Tony would be able to decide what he wanted. He would know what his glances and (innocent!) touches meant. No, that was wrong. It didn’t mean he wanted something more from Tony, if he didn’t want that. 

Oh god, what if Tony thought he wanted him just for that and that their cuddling (because there had been cuddling and Steve was over the moon every time it happened) had been sexual for Steve? What if he thought Steve had taken advantage of him?

Had he taken advantage of the genius?

Oh god, he had, hadn’t he? What if-

A small hand connected hard with his cheek and Steve, without thinking about it, grabbed the slim wrist of his attacker to stare down in Natasha’s calm green eyes. 

Steve let go of her wrist as if it had burned him. Nat could do so much worse to him if she wanted to.

Taking a step back, Steve put his hand to his cheek. He didn’t ask why she had hit him. He knew.

Nat just looked up at him, unimpressed, not trying to hide her exasperation that could also be a heavy annoyance. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to. They had talked about it.

More exactly, they had talked about it three days ago, when it felt like they were finally relaxing again. After Tony almost dying because a building fell on them, all of them being kidnapped to a fictional island and believing Tony was dead the first time and Tony being kidnapped again a week later and them thinking he was dead for sure that time, while Hydra reared its ugly heads, the last couple of months had been rough. 

Six weeks ago, he had come face to face with the Winter Soldier. The one he had thought had killed Tony. But he hadn’t. While being kidnapped Tony had managed to uncover a decades old conspiracy and turned their  _ Asset _ against them.

A few days later he had learned that the Winter Soldier had once been his Bucky but wasn’t anymore. After that it had taken them all almost a month to finally calm down again. There had been setbacks from time to time, the last one happening two weeks ago in which Winter, as Bucky called himself now, had stopped speaking completely and had not left Tony alone for even a minute. He had even stayed with Steve and Tony in his bedroom. He hadn’t touched Tony, even moving back from Tony’s touches, which he hadn’t done before, looking more haunted than Steve could stomach. 

Tony hadn’t said a word about it, but the guilt had been heavy in his eyes. 

Steve still didn’t know what had happened. Neither why Winter had the setback nor why, suddenly, he seemed to be better again, taking up where he had left off, starting to talk again, or step closer to Tony and relax. 

He didn’t think Tony knew either, but as he relaxed as well, Steve was okay not knowing, as long as Tony was happy.

That was the exact reason he had started to think about telling him again. And then Nat had taken him aside, smiling up with that special smile she used for the worst of the villains or whenever she thought one of her teammates was exceptionally stupid. 

For a heartbeat Steve had  _ known _ she thought him to be a villain. She had told him to be careful with Tony months ago. What if she thought he had done something to Tony?

Luckily, that hadn’t been it. She had just thought him to be idiotically dumb, encouraging him to try. 

Steve trusted her. Of course, he trusted her. With his life, the life of the world and his family. Of course, he did. 

Still, he was terrified. Because what if? What if Tony rejected him and their friendship would suffer? What if he didn’t reject him and Steve hurt him? What if he would become an even more desirable target if they got together? Would the villains try to hurt Tony to get to Steve?

What if Tony hated him for it? 

“Do I need to slap you again?”

Steve looked back into Natasha’s eyes, calm and almost amused if there hadn’t been the growing frustration.

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re going to tell him.”

“…yes.”

“Tonight.”

“…yes…?”

“Tonight.” She repeated, a threatening edge to her words.

“Tonight.” Steve confirmed. He might be stubborn and stupid, but he was neither too stubborn nor stupid to go against Nat when she had that glint in her eyes.

“Good.” Nat’s smile softend. “Our kotenok might take some time to react to it, but he will, Steve.”

Nodding, Steve didn’t think about what that could entail. There was just too much that could happen. Sometimes he hated how is mind would immediately start to formulate plans, pick every possibility apart and show every possible and probable way for him to fuck this up. 

He should be more confident. Tony liked him. Maybe not like Steve liked Tony, but he liked him. They were sleeping in the same bed for god’s sake. They  _ cuddled _ . And sometimes he thought that Tony was smiling at him, or looking at him and… even if Steve and Natasha misinterpreted it, Tony wouldn’t be cruel about it. Never.

But this was Tony. So even if he liked Steve that way, he was  _ certain _ the genius would find a way in his brilliant mind to either devalue it all, so that Tony would think he wasn’t good enough for Steve or make it out like Steve didn’t really want it. Both were ridiculous. If anything Tony was way too good for Steve and he has been gone over the genius basically since they met. 

If Tony didn’t like Steve that way, there were a lot of possibilities how he could react. The most likely was a kind but definite decline, letting Steve down easily, which would probably mean they wouldn’t cuddle anymore. Which would be horrible. 

Another possibility was that Tony would think he should like Steve back. Or would force himself to do it, because he didn’t want to hurt Steve. Or tear the Avengers apart. No, Tony had to have more self-worth. Right? He had to!

The worst would be if Tony thought Steve did everything he did, especially the physical expression of love and comfort, only because he wanted to sleep with the genius. Which was not true! It wasn’t! Had his body reacted to Tony’s presence? Yes, it had and some of that could be blamed on the serum, but… oh god, what if-

Nat slapped him again.

She was right. Steve had to tell Tony. It was only right. Tony had to know. Steve had to tell him. 

The butterflies in his stomach made a somersault at the mere idea that Tony could actually like him back. He would be able to hug Tony  _ more _ . He would be allowed to kiss Tony. Most likely. He would ask, of course, but… he would probably be able to kiss Tony! To hold him! To tell him that he loved him! 

“Better.” Nat commented, almost a smirk on her lips. “Now get dressed, we have to be there in an hour, and you know who Pepper is going to blame if we are late.”

Yes, he knew and they had to do anything to keep Tony calm and happy. Not because of the press conference, if anyone didn’t give a shit about those it was Tony. Sure, he hated them and hated to put up his masks, but they didn’t scare him.

Not that they scared Steve. Or Nat, Clint or Thor. They might scare Bruce a little, but differently. The fact remained that none of them were as used to giving interviews as Tony. None of them were as relaxed doing so.

One of the things that might make Tony nervous was the fact that Winter would come along. Not that anyone was surprised. Tony had tried to fight it, nevertheless. 

No one had been surprised when Winter, exceedingly unimpressed, had just turned from Tony to the rest of them, raising an eyebrow as if to ask  _ do you believe this guy _ ?

The following fight had been short, half-hearted and ended when Nat ignored all of them and told Winter that Pepper had sent a suit for him and that he could wait in the backroom.

“I hate wearing these monkey suits.”

“We know and we don’t care, Birdbrain.”

“You hate them too!”

“Doesn’t matter, they love me.”

Steve stepped around the corner and had to bite back a whine. Because Tony was right. Not that Clint didn’t look good in a suit. He did, even if you could see how uncomfortable he was in it. At least if you knew him.

But Tony? The black suit hugged his curves tightly, showing his well built body off with class. The red satin shirt was a splash of colour, beautifully accented by both the sunglasses with the red tinted glasses and the thin black tie. 

As luck would have it, Clint saw Steve staring at Tony, an evil smile creeping on his lips. Before he could say whatever it was he had planned to say to embarrass Steve, Winter stepped towards them and Clint’s focus, thankfully, shifted.

“Why is it that even the defrosted Assassin over there looks good in a suit and I look like a show poodle?”

“Show poodle.” Winter answered, nodding condescendingly. 

“That’s right, Buttercup, if everyone else looks good in a suit it might be that, as always, Clint is the problem.”

“I’m damn hot, you assholes! Something is wrong with my suit!”

“I do not think so my friend.” Thor, wearing a white shirt and suit pants, stepped closer, looking at Clint critically. “I think your natural beauty shines much more in other clothing.”

“AHA!” Clint gestures dramatically at Tony and Winter.

“Calm down, Clint, he is saying that you can’t pull off anything that is more than the Walmart T-shirts you wear so offensively.”

“This was not my intend, I-”

“All your band-shirts-”

“If you say anything against my  _ awesome _ shirts, Birdbrain, I will-”

“Home sweet home.”

Steve almost startled looking to his right side where Natasha had just materialized, wearing a beautifully cut suit herself, accenting her more female attributes to perfection. It didn’t really do anything for Steve, but he could appreciate beauty when he saw it.

Smiling, Steve looked back at his fighting family. The happiness was almost visible between them. It was audible in their voices and he could feel the last of his panic calm.

“Bruceybear, back me up on this!”

Bruce, who had just stepped out of the elevator, glanced over all of them, some of his tension lessening, even though he still looked like they would drag him to his own execution.

“What am I backing you up on?”

“See! Bruce is on my side!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!”

Ignoring the Tony-Clint-Show for the moment, Steve followed Thor’s eyes to Bruce. The scientist wore a black suit, as all of them, with a dark blue shirt. 

Biting back a smile he met Natasha’s eyes. The Black Widow obviously trying to hold back a sigh. 

“Sir, if I might remind you of the very inventive and descriptive threat that Miss Potts made against you, if you’re going to be late.”

“Shit.” Tony flinched, already backing towards the limousine, waving demandingly to his teammates. “Come on, chop chop. Pepper is going to- never mind. She is not going to do it if we’re on time.”

The fact that Winter didn’t growl at that showed how far he had already come in the last weeks. The fact that every Avenger, even Nat, got into the car at a fast speed, spoke for how utterly terrifying Pepper Potts could be. And that they all loved Tony. Like family. Not like… 

Focus. 

Right now, they were on their way to their first big press conference after Hydra had shown their hand too soon and lost. There had been some statements, and Tony’s interview, but nothing more. 

Now, over a month after everything happened, most things had calmed down, and the Avengers had been asked to give a press conference about what had actually happened, how they had coordinated and worked with other teams, such as the X-Men and allies around the world, and that the world was safe again.

It didn’t matter that it would be at least partly a lie. There were still a lot of operations going. There were people in positions of power that, if not outright being Hydra, sympathised with them. There was still a long way to go, and Steve was ready to tackle everything. As soon as he had talked to his genius. But right after, he would be ready to fight Hydra. Maybe tomorrow morning. And then: destruction to Hydra once and for all.

This was one of the parts of being an Avenger he hated the most: being the dancing monkey in front of the cameras. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to do it. Hell, this was how he had started out as Captain America. But that he still had to do it even now grated on his nerves.

And the fact that Tony was at a scheduled meeting out in the open. Last time that had happened he hadn’t even reached his hotel. True, his kidnapper was sitting with them in the car and would sooner rip his metallic arm off, which he loved with a passion since Tony had created it just for him, then hurting him ever again. And by now Steve was sure he had understood that taking someone against their will was hurting them. 

It wasn’t a guaranty that no one else would be stupid enough to try anything. Yes, it was the middle of the day, and yes, the Avengers were surrounding Tony, but desperate people were known for desperate ideas. 

A warm hand patted his knee and he looked up in whiskey-coloured eyes with just the slightest splashes of dark chocolate and honey. They were warm, calm and smiling.

“Come on, Cap, if Brucey looks like we’re going in front of a shooting commando at least you, as our fearless leader, have to look like we survive this. It’s just the press.”

“They called you the devil two weeks ago and thought it was your failed attempt to finally go bat-shit-crazy-supervillain-overlord on our asses.”

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

Steve sighed deeply.

“It was a disservice to us!” Clint exclaimed, offended. “If we ever take over the world, we, of course, will succeed!”

“This is why you aren’t allowed to say anything at press conferences, Birdbrain. Jenny threatened me with death if I allowed you to speak.”

“As if you can stop me.”

“Jarvis is running the mikes. He knows to not project your voice.”

“What? It’s my God-given right to say-”

“All the shit you wanna say.” Tony smiled sweetly at him. “Just like those lovely reporters saying I was too stupid to take over the world.”

“First of, low blow. Secondly, that’s exactly what I mean. We wouldn’t have failed.”

“Not we, Birdbrain, I.” Tony was fiddling with his phone, distractedly. He didn’t see the smile forming on Clint’s lips.

“There is no ‘i’ in Team, Tony.” He said, shaking his head, disappointedly. “I thought you knew that.”

“Thank god, we’re here.” Happy mumbled from the front seat, not reacting to the glares he earned for his trouble. 

They got out of the car, making sure to keep Tony in their middle, which he commented with an eyeroll. He didn’t say anything further on the matter as some reporters, probably those who weren’t invited into the press conference, were waiting for them in front of the back entrance.

Winter, who hid his face under a black fedora, pushed his way through them with Thor by his side. It had taken them barely thirty seconds to leave the open street, still Steve relaxed his muscles as soon as they entered the narrow corridor of the backstage part of the theatre that had been rented to hold the press conference.

“Breathe, everyone.” Tony quipped, winking at them. “The show is about to start and if we can sneak in some burlesque dancing-” 

“Tony!”

“Pepper, light of my life, I-”

“If you even  _ think _ about going off script-”

“Would I ever?”

The silence was answer enough. As was the glares Tony earned, not only from Pepper but also from the blond woman standing behind her. It was Jenny from PR, who had handled some of SI’s and the Avengers' more delicate matters in the past and was Pepper’s right hand woman in all things media related since Hydra had attacked the Tower.

Clint snorted, clapping Tony hard on his back. “I take it back. There is an ‘i’ in Team. Good luck, you’re on your own.”

Instead of an answer, Winter grabbed Clint by the back of his suit jacket and pushed him in front of Tony.

“What the- I thought we were friends!” Clint huffed, looking hurt. Winter just smirked. 

They really had come a far way.

Pepper, as the wise woman that she was, didn’t react to them, but was still staring holes into Tony.

“No, Pepper, I will be very good. I will not tell any state secrets and I won’t close any departments of SI; I swear.”

“You can’t do that anyway.” Her shoulders relaxed and she stepped closer passing Winter, who didn’t react but kept his eyes on her.

“As this is an official Avengers press conference, we couldn’t decline certain news stations and newspapers, but Jenny made sure the worst of the worst paparazzi were uninvited.”

“Thanks Pep.” Tony leaned forward kissing the woman on her cheek. Which was fine, because they were friends and he kissed others on their cheeks too. Not Steve, but if he was honest, that weren’t the kisses he wanted anyway.

“And to you, Jen-Jen.” He smiled at the blond woman, who nodded, business-like, before glancing down on her wristwatch, an old model with a gold casing. 

“You’re up in 5.” She said, before turning around promptly, leaving for the stage entrance.

“Everyone ready?” Steve turned to his team, looking at everyone, to make sure they were fine.

Bruce’s “No” was almost drowned by the agreeing noises the others made.

“Come on, Brucey,” Tony slung an arm around the other scientist, dragging him along. “You can stand beside me; I’m going to keep you safe from all the asshole reporters.”

“Are you going to do it by drawing all the attention to yourself?” Bruce asked, disapprovingly. As much as he didn’t like to be the focus of anything, he hated the way the press reacted to Tony as much as the rest of them.

Which meant that there had been an instance in the past in which Thor and Steve had to wrestle the Hulk into his cage after one paparazzi had written an extraordinarily piece of trash in which the nicest accusation against Tony was that he forced the Avengers to be his personal harem. 

When Tony had learned about it later from a still seething Bruce, he had started laughing, declaring each and every one of them could kill him without effort. The following mood drop seemed to go unnoticed by the genius.

“I don’t have to, the press is naturally drawn to me, honey.” Tony winked at him, before letting go of the other man.

“Cap, you’re going to start this speech or should I rile them up first?”

“No.” 

“Come on, I thought we could-”

“Absolutely not.” On this Steve wouldn’t budge no matter the pout Tony sent his way. He had learned that lesson painfully enough to know, this was never an option.

Before either Tony or Clint could comment, they got the signal to get onto the stage and Steve groaned, silently. Up into the spotlight to dance. 

While Tony told Winter to stay with Pepper, he stepped out into the blinding light. Forcing a relaxed smile on his face, that he knew looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was at the moment, he took his place in the center.

Nat stepped to his left, her natural grace making it look like she was finally home. Her posture was relaxed and elegant, her expression calm and a silent smile tucking at the corner of her mouth. 

Next to her stopped Clint, his shoulders squared, his expression open and relaxed, a smile brightening his eyes.

Bruce stopped to his right, leaving a spot open. He, too, had his shoulders squared, his expression calm, his fists clenched. 

Beside him stood Thor, tall, smiling and relaxed. 

A few seconds later Tony stepped onto the stage, waving and smiling, like he owned the theatre, the crowd and the stage. His hair gleamed in the bright lights and his eyes danced. He hated it, yes, but no one would guess that, as he stepped between Bruce and Steve. 

As soon as the crowd quieted down some, Steve cleared his throat. 

“Thank you for coming. In this press conference we will usher a statement to the current state of affairs and afterwards we will be answering some questions.” He smiled his useful  _ I-am-new-to-this-century-so-please-be-gentle-smile  _ (Tony’s description, not his) at the sharks in front of him. 

“Six weeks ago, we learned that Hydra was still-” Steve never finished that sentence, as, right at that moment, a shot interrupted him. 


	2. Winter: Hail Hydra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter tries to catch the shooter, trusting the Avengers to take care of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> I hope you were able to enjoy this weekend so far!
> 
> Special thanks to my beta reader and friend Justanotherpuff!

“Don’t look at me like that, Buttercup, you knew this was going to happen.”

Winter glared at Tony. 

“Go with Pepper, protect her, I’m surrounded by the Avengers for fucks sake! I  _ am _ an Avenger!”

Winter knew that, of course. It didn’t change that it made Winter nervous to know Tony would step out into the open. In front of a lot of people. Who would all hold something in their hands that could hide a weapon.

Without his suit of armour.

“I don’t have time for that. You stay with Pepper and Jenny, are we clear?” His words were harsh, but Winter could see the urgency in his brown eyes. He let Tony squeeze his arm, letting the contact calm him some.

Before Winter could answer, Tony had already turned on the spot and walked out on stage, following the rest of the Avengers and stepping between the Captain and Dr. Banner. 

Winter really didn’t like this.

He didn’t go into the backroom where he knew Miss Potts and Miss Webbier were. He didn’t trust them. But being here, out in the open was nerve-wracking too. Winter exhaled, trying to calm himself and physically fighting his need to hide in the shadows or get into a higher spot to see more, to oversee everything.

Letting his eyes wander over the people in the crowd, he forced his  _ need _ down to run out and drag Tony kicking and screaming into the shadows where he would be safe. Tony wouldn’t like it. Miss Potts wouldn’t like it. But Winter almost didn’t care. What were all of them thinking? They were literally standing still on a podium with spotlights on them. Any shooter would be able to-

Winter froze, his eyes snapping to a spot in the high seats at the back of the theatre. Had there been a metallic glint? He-

The shot rang loud and clear through the air. 

The shooter hadn’t used a silencer. 

Not that that was in any way important. 

He was already running towards the exit that was closest to the stairs leading to that part of the theatre. Because, in an architectural failure, the highest seats had two staircases, one of which led to another “backstage” part where stage props were stored. Running up the small staircase would be faster than jumping around panicked people, Winter knew. He had enough experience doing this.

He didn’t look back. Didn’t wait for the confirmation who was the target of their attack. There were two who would be most likely. But even if he knew who had been shot, there was nothing he could do better than the Avengers. They would keep their injured safe. They would help. 

Winter could catch whoever did this. He knew how Hydra operated, knew how assassins would plan their exit. He had looked over the building plans with the Black Widow… Natasha… and they had strategized with the Captain… Steve… what to do if… if they needed to get out.

They had promised they didn’t need to do another perimeter check. They had said they would be fine. They had-

Focusing on his running steps, Winter pushed all of those thoughts out of his head. He had a mission. If he succeeded, everything would be good. 

The press, thankfully, had been in the main room so it was easy to ignore the screams, the uproar and the panicked people, as they weren’t blocking his way. He stopped for a heartbeat to make sure the attacker had already exited the alcove, even if he had  _ known _ he would have. He hadn’t left anything behind.

Winter stormed forward, running down the staff-only staircase, hidden behind a dark red curtain. It ended in a big corridor, big enough to maneuver machinery through it to set up the stage props. Winter didn’t glance around, didn’t care for the signs of people having hastily run when the commotion started that was audible even here. 

Storming forward, he reached the slightly ajar standing fire exit door. This was probably their entry and exit point. 

Winter didn’t stop running, pushing the door out of his way with enough force to rip it out of its hinges. He didn’t stop.

From this point there were four most likely routes to take. Presuming they hadn’t gotten rid of their weapon and if so, Winter didn’t know where; they would probably try to use smaller paths to disassemble their rifle and would be picked up by a car. Using the metro had its perks but the police would scan those tapes first – and everyone knew that the Avengers had good technical resources to pull this off in a very short amount of time. 

That meant they needed a pickup point that wouldn’t be observed by cameras and alleys that weren’t filmed in which you wouldn’t come across someone that would tell the police or the Avengers anything if they saw you. 

Deciding on his course, Winter doubled his speed. His approach wasn’t anything he had trained. He ran, not covering himself in any way, not checking for traps or people possibly hiding behind dumpsters and other obstacles standing around. 

It didn’t matter.

They couldn’t be that far ahead. If they weren’t enhanced in any way, there was no way they could outrun him. Especially if they tried to disassemble their weapon and tried to be inconspicuous.

If they would use similar tactics like Winter. What if they didn’t? What if they knew he would be there, knew he would follow them? They would probably use the opposite of what would be logical.

What if they used the tactic that had never worked with Winter and joined the panicked crowd?

Fuck.

Winter propelled himself around a corner, catching a glimpse of a dark figure at the other end before it ran around another corner. They hadn’t looked back.

Ignoring his instincts, that told him this was most likely a trap, Winter kept running, his steps as silently as he could make them while sprinting down an asphalted narrow alley between concrete walls. 

Getting closer to the corner, Winter tensed his muscles, speeding up just a little more, jumping around with a spin, running two steps on the side of the concrete wall, before jumping back to the street.

Or that had been his plan. He felt the bullet rip through his leg almost the same second he saw the attacker. He held a gun with a silencer in a steady hand, his expression deadly focussed.

Had Winter run around the corner, he was sure the other assassin would have killed him with a head shot. 

Not slowing for an instance, Winter jumped off the wall, not favouring his injured leg, and grabbed for the other man’s throat with his metal hand.

He narrowly avoided the next bullet, ducking in the right moment and knocking his hand away with brutal force. The other man’s wrist snapped, but before he could say anything, Winter’s metal hand was already around his throat, pushing the assassin into the wall behind him with a thudding sound as his head connected with the concrete.

The whole thing hadn’t taken more than five seconds, still the other had already grabbed a knife and stabbed it through Winter’s shoulder. Not that it stopped Winter.

Grabbing his other wrist, he pressed down on it, ignoring the jerking motion that made the blade cut deeper into his shoulder. The assassin’s right wrist snapped, too.

Looking up into the blue eyes, Winter knew he had fucked up. The assassin was smiling.

“Hail Hydra.” He rasped, froth already forming at his mouth. 

Winter growled, low and frustrated. He hadn’t thought about it. How could he have forgotten? Sure, he had never gotten one of the suicide pills, like every true Hydra agent, but he should have  _ known _ . Should have remembered. Even if, judging by the symptoms, the assassin had bitten down on it a few minutes ago. 

As if to prove him right, the body seized up and gasped for breath, desperately. 

Winter let go of the assassin and stepped back. There was nothing he could do to save him. Waiting for it to be over was all that was left for him to do. 

Exhaling, Winter looked down to the knife sticking out of his flesh shoulder. It would heal. As would the bullet wound, a through and through, thankfully. 

His heart was still thumping away frantically, which didn’t make any sense. This was nothing special. Nothing new. He could remember similar situations. His heart had never felt like it tried to jump out of his throat, stopping him from breathing.

His head snapped up when he heard footsteps approaching. They were light, only one person, but they were running.

Moving backwards, Winter grabbed for the gun he hadn’t used in his chase, and pointed it at the corner, waiting.

The steps slowed until they stopped, right around the corner.

“Winter?” 

It was barely more than a whisper, quiet enough that no one without enhanced hearing would have been able to pick it up.

Not able to answer the Black Widow verbally, Winter knocked his gun once against the wall behind him.

A moment later, the Black Widow glanced around the corner. As soon as her eyes met Winter’s, she stepped around it, eying the dying agent who was still gasping for air.

She didn’t say anything. It was one of the things Winter had learned to appreciate about the other assassin. She only spoke when words were needed. Not that he disliked it when Tony talked. Listening to Tony was good. It was safe. 

“Do you need help?”

Winter glanced towards her. She nodded to the blade in his shoulder. He shook his head once, grabbing the handle and pulled. Warm blood rushed out of it, wetting his once white shirt. Not that he cared. 

“...who?”

The Black Widow looked up at that, her green eyes dark and worried. Winter wasn’t sure if that had more to do with the victim or the way his voice had sounded. Dead and hollow.

She didn’t need to answer.

Of course, it was Tony. Hydra had wanted him. Winter wasn’t sure why; the Asset wasn’t told and hadn’t cared. But they had wanted him and whatever they would have done with him, it wouldn’t be good. 

It also didn’t matter that the world thought others had saved them from Hydra, because Hydra would know that it came down to Tony. Sure, they would also blame Winter, as he had helped, but those who had worked with him, his  _ handlers _ wouldn’t believe that the Winter Soldier could do anything without a direct command. They would believe Tony had broken him, had gotten into his head and warped him to Tony’s will.

They weren’t exactly wrong. Tony had gotten to Winter. But through kindness, understanding and compassion. 

Not that Hydra knew what that was.

The agent in front of them finally gave his last death rattle, leaving the alley in blissful silence. 

“They had already called the ambulance when I followed you.”

Winter nodded once. Tony had been alive or they wouldn’t have bothered. 

Stepping forward, Winter crouched down, ignoring the flaring pain in his leg and shoulder. It meant nothing. Not only because there was a weird numbness in his head. The Asset had learned to ignore pain. The only pain that had ever gotten to it was the chair. This was nothing. 

Winter wasn’t the Asset. But his body remembered it. Remembered how to work. To react.

Checking the pocket of the dead man, he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t find anything. 

Looking up, he saw the Black Widow open the dumpster a few paces down the alley, pulling out an inconspicuous briefcase.

Although they got more nervous by the second, neither of them wanted to leave before making sure they didn’t overlook anything. SHIELD, even if supposedly clean, couldn’t be trusted with this. Winter wasn’t sure why the Black Widow agreed with him. Maybe because she didn’t trust anyone but the Avengers with her  _ kotenok _ ?

Ten minutes later, they had checked everything at least twice. After calling it in, they waited. Winter in a different alley, the Black Widow with the corpse. Another endless fifteen minutes later, she picked him up with a black nondescript car, most likely stolen from SHIELD.

He sat down in the passenger seat, glancing at her. She just shook her head.

No news. 

“Tony is strong.”

Winter looked over to the Widow. Her hands clutching the steering wheel tightly, her face expressionless. Her eyes, dark and calm, focussed on the road. 

She was right. Tonx was strong. But he was also human. He didn’t have enhanced healing. His body was weakened because of the Arc Reactor. He was still underweight. He had almost nightly nightmares. 

Tony’s mind was strong. His body wasn’t. 

He didn’t tell her that. She knew. Even if she didn’t want to. 

Had she said it to calm Winter? Had she said it because she wanted to believe it? Was this one of these moments where Tony had told him lies could be white?

Winter didn’t understand the concept. Why would the lie be acceptable if it told the other person what they wanted to hear? It wouldn’t change whether or not Tony would survive.

His chest, already tight and hurting, got even worse, and he forced himself to keep breathing evenly. 

He had learned to keep calm. To not react. To not feel. Afterwards Tony had taught him to feel and react, sure, but what were a couple weeks compared to months? Not that much. It wasn’t. And his body, it seemed, remembered the longer training, even if Winter didn’t. 

They stopped a few streets away from the hospital, the Black Widow parking the car on some greenery, not caring in the slightest what others would think of that. 

Good.

They had seen the reporters and paparazzi standing in front of the entrance to the hospital while circling around the building. Winter wasn’t surprised in the slightest when the Black Widow led him to an almost hidden fire escape door in the back of the hospital. Hawkeye was already waiting for them.

“News?”

“He is in the operating room.”

Hawkeye’s voice was off. Cold and detached in a way it hadn’t even been in the beginning when he had threatened to kill Winter.

Following them both, Winter tried to calm the adrenaline in his system. It hadn’t been difficult when he had been with the Widow in the car. Walking down increasingly busy clinic hallways he was hard pressed to not start shooting. 

Especially when they saw the blood on him. As he was following two of the Avengers, they didn’t approach him, still their eyes followed him, adding to his already rising… feelings.

The halls were bleak and busy, the signs telling them they were close to the operating rooms. 

Good. 

Hawkeye opened a door to a small room, with some chairs around the walls, a vending machine and a big loud clock at the wall opposite of the door.

Winter followed them in, closing the door behind him after glancing at the people in the corridor. They seemed to be average hospital staff, but if you didn’t have a metal arm and dead eyes, it wasn’t hard to dress in scrubs and look stressed.

Turning around to the people in the room, Winter noticed, approvingly, that Dr. Banner wasn’t here. He must be with Tony, making sure they didn’t do anything to the Arc Reactor, as he and Dr. Cho were the closest there were to specialists for it. 

If Tony wasn’t able to work on it himself.

To the far right sat Miss Potts, her back straight, her eyes closed. Her expression was tightly restrained. Her hands clutched a phone, desperately.

On the seat beside her sat Thor, his expression grim, small electrical currents running through his eyes. He had his arms crossed. When their eyes met, he nodded at Winter, as if to approve of his action, but didn’t ask. The Black Widow had most likely already informed them. 

She and Hawkeye sat beside the vending machine. Not talking. Not touching. Just sitting close. Waiting. 

Winter knew that feeling well. That none-feeling. The waiting.

The Captain sat on the left side. He had lost the suit jacket. His once light blue shirt was covered in blood, as were his hands and arms, that rested heavily on his knees. His head hung low, his body arched forward.

Winter didn’t see his eyes, but he was sure they were closed.

The Avengers had broken. 

Winter took a step to the side, standing right beside the door, he took first watch. None of them were in the condition to be useful at the moment. Not even the Black Widow who, judging by everything he had learned so far, and had seen from her, was the closest to himself in her training.

Of course, he had known that already. One glance at her and her file had been enough to make sure Winter knew that she was a dangerous opponent. She wasn’t strong compared to him, but she was highly trained, fast, precise and only fools would underestimate an assassin of her calibre. 

But it was more than her training or the way she seemed to be able to cut off her emotions like he knew he was able to. 

He was doing it right now. Wasn’t he? Probably. Because he had learned that he was useless with the emotions running high when Tony had told him that it had been the Winter Soldier that killed his parents. 

The first three days after, Winter had been useless. He hadn’t been able to think of anything but the pain he had caused Tony. And others. He hadn’t been able to bake. To take care of Tony. To help in any way. 

Instead, he had followed Tony, needing to see him, to know he hadn’t killed him too. Even though he had known he shouldn’t be there. Shouldn’t force his presence on Tony. 

He hadn’t been able to look into his eyes. His compassion hurting more than anger would have. 

He hadn’t been able to let Tony touch Winter, even if his touch grounded him. Helped him.

Three nights he had been lurking in the shadows of Tony’s bedroom, watching the genius sleep beside the Captain. Letting himself be calmed when he woke up from a nightmare. Tony didn’t talk about them. But some must have been caused by Winter. By the Asset.

On the fourth morning, after a particularly bad nightmare from Tony, Winter had fled, no longer able to be near him. He still hadn’t much of a reference for family or friends, to be honest, aside from snippets and observations, but he had watched Tony with Peter. He had watched everyone with Tony. 

He had hurt Tony. The Asset had hurt him and whether or not Tony was right, and it wasn’t Winter’s fault, as the Asset hadn’t been Winter, he still had the same face. 

And Tony had to look at him.

The Black Widow… Natasha… had found him shortly after, destroying punching bags.

She had sat down and waited, until he had turned, glaring at her. 

Indicating a spot opposite, her on the mat, she had waited, seemingly unconcerned until Winter had joined her. 

He wasn’t sure why he had followed her… wish. But he had, sitting down. Waiting.

“Tony forgave me for spying on him.” She had said, toneless, her eyes sharp. Knowing. 

But she didn’t know. Tony had said no one did. Not even her.

“He understands guilt almost better than anyone.” The green in her eyes had darkened and just for a moment, Winter had seen a splash of pain and sadness, before she had blinked, hiding it all away again.

“We learn from our pasts. We acknowledge our actions, whether or not others consider it to be our faults.” A melancholy note hit that last word, before her voice got hard. Uncompromising. “We do better. Do as much good as we can.”

Her eyes hadn’t left Winter’s for a second. That was her story. It was Tony’s story. It was Winter’s story, too. 

Tony even told him that Winter wasn’t to blame for his actions, but Tony was. And he blamed himself. Winter knew. He had seen it in his eyes. 

“…how?” It was the first time he had spoken directly to the other assassin. Just a few weeks ago he would have killed her without questioning it just for coming near him.

“Learn from it. Acknowledge your actions. If possible erase some red from your ledger. Do good.”

Winter looked away from her burning eyes. He had learned. Tony had taught him. He was still learning. And he would keep learning.

Tony told him it hadn’t been his actions. And it might not have been Winter who did all the kills of the Winter Soldier, but it had been this body. And Winter remembered some of the kills. Yes, it had been under orders and yes, at that time there had been no thoughts in his mind, no understanding that what he did was wrong. Still, he had done it, hadn’t he?

Winter hadn’t heard that expression before, but it was easy to guess what it meant. Try to pay your debts. Could you do that when you killed the parents of a kid and that person saved you and helped you and… was there for you?

Do good. Winter was still unclear what that exactly meant. Or how he could achieve it. Yes, there were rules, but some of them were confusing and- 

Looking back into the green eyes of the Black- Natasha, he wasn’t sure whether or not what he wanted to do, was good. If it would erase some red. Or if it would make it worse.

“…protect…Tony?”

She didn’t know. Didn’t know the context. Didn’t know what he had done. But Tony was there, he stayed close. He hadn’t commented when Winter had stayed close and not left the bedroom. He still reached out to Winter, touching him carefully, gently. Letting go whenever Winter moved back.

He just smiled at Winter sadly, as if it was his fault. As if he blamed himself when Winter was the one who had hurt him!

“Yes. That is something good. It erases some red.”

Because he had kidnapped him. Had shot him. Had hurt him. Even if it would never erase that he had killed Howard and Maria Stark.

After that, Winter had started to think of the Black Widow as the Avenger and that woman who had talked to him as Natasha. Even if it was still a work in progress. 

That same night he had gone to Tony, who visibly relaxed when Winter came close again, meeting his eyes. He had smiled. Warm and trusting. 

“…protect you?”

Tony had scrunched up his forehead, before telling Winter, again, that it hadn’t been his fault, that Tony didn’t tell him because he thought he was guilty, but because it was a secret and secrets like these between friends could be disastrous. 

Winter had listened. Had tried to understand what Tony was saying. Of course, he hadn’t told Winter to make him protect Tony. Winter knew that. 

“Do good. Protect.”

At that, Tony had deflated. “There are better people to protect than me, Buttercup.”

Winter hadn’t answered. He didn’t believe that. He did know that he wanted to protect the genius, because he needed it. Because he was  _ good  _ and because he was Winter’s. Whether or not he knew it. 

And Winter had been right.

Blinking, he focussed on the scene in front of him. On the broken heroes in front of him. 

Hydra had shot Tony. During a press conference. The rifle he and the Black Widow had found didn’t have a silencer with it. It had been supposed to be heard. 

Winter knew these kinds of kills. He had had two missions like this shortly after getting out of the chair. They had ordered him to make a spectacle out of it. To make it as public as possible. To make sure it was caught on film.

These had been executions to make a statement. To make sure their enemies knew who to fear. That they weren’t safe.

Hydra was going to make an example out of Tony. Their proof that every time someone cut a head off, two grew back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> As always, I love all your comments and thoughts!
> 
> I must confess, I found it pretty funny that some comments were like "it's good you are back". My lovely readers, I appreciate it, but it was barely a week :D
> 
> Stay safe, sane and optimistic, if you can!


	3. Steve: The World Will Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra tells the world what they want. And Steve couldn't care less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers,
> 
> WARNING: this chapter got A LOT angstier when anticipated. This is not happy. 
> 
> There will be a happy ending. I promise you that. This is all part of a bigger plan!
> 
> Try to enjoy :)

Tony stumbled.

The echo of the shot was still vibrating in the air and none of the people in the crowd had yet realized what had happened.

Steve hadn’t either. His brain shying away from what couldn’t be true. 

Without his reflexes, that worked without the input of his brain, Steve wouldn’t have been able to catch his genius as he crumbled.

It took a heartbeat longer for his mind to react. It switched into mission-mode, pressing down on his feelings. The painful gasp, as he caught the other man, made him kneel down on the hard stage, trusting his team to keep them safe, despite his need to run, to hide Tony away.

All these were thoughts that were just a shadow in the back of his mind as he stared down into Tony’s far too pale face. As he saw the blood already soaking the red shirt, the same colour as his blood.

There were screams. Steve knew they should be near and piercing. He barely heard them. 

Glancing up, he saw Thor standing over them, protecting them, while he talked to Bruce, obviously trying to calm the other man, whose eyes were blazing green. His hands were shaking and tinged with the same green, promising that Hulk would break free and destroy everyone who dared to hurt his Tin Man.

Steve couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t care.

When he looked back, Tony had closed his eyes, pressing them shut as he struggled to breathe. Blood was pooling out of his chest, his shirt still hiding most of it, but if Steve had to guess, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be right. But if he had to guess, he would say, the bullet had hit his Arc Reactor. Or his lungs.

A movement out of the corner of his eyes had him move forward. It was Hawkeye, coming closer, grabbing Tony’s head and helping Tony lay down flat on his back.

“Jacket.” He bit out and Steve, barely able to do anything, barely able to react because everything he knew was the silent scream in his head filling everything which should have room for plans. And thoughts. But he didn’t want to think. If he started he would see. He would see that something was different.

Ripping his jacket off, he pressed it to Tony’s chest, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. To stop the wet heat from flooding out of Tony and taking his life with it.

Tony whimpered. It was a pathetic sound. Almost inaudible. Full of agony. He couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t realize. Wasn’t allowed to think about the implications that Tony, his Tony, his genius, who never showed physical pain, who could hide his injuries away and was able to make his enemies and fans believe he was invincible, was whimpering. 

Steve faltered, not able to keep pressing down. To hurt Tony.

As his life flooded out of him. His blood, that was already dripping on the stage.

Clint moved forward, ripping the jacket out of Steve’s hand and pressing it down on Tony’s chest. Tony whimpered again. Clint didn’t let go. His expression was hard, cold and set. He would save Tony’s life no matter what it would cost him. 

And it did cost him.

Unable to be useful, Steve grabbed Tony’s hand, clutching it to his chest. He was still hiding him with his own body from the screaming masses that wouldn’t stop. It didn’t matter.

Lifting his other hand, he took Tony’s blood red glasses off, looking in the deathly pale face of his love.

The genius didn’t react. Didn’t show he knew that Steve was there. That Clint was there, doing everything he could to keep Tony alive.

Steve couldn’t remember one time, not one, in which Tony hadn’t reacted to him. Even when hurt, even almost unconscious, he had always reacted. Had tried to calm Steve, to hide his pain.

“It’s okay, Tony.” Steve whispered, moving a little closer, ignoring his knees getting wet. Ignoring the faltered breathing of the genius. “Just hold on.” His pleading was full of desperation, of agony and fear.

Tony pressed his hand, not strong, not with precision, but he pressed down, as if to reassure Steve. To let him know he knew. That he wasn’t alone. That they would keep him safe. That they would try. That they-

Steve ignored the screams and the voice being projected over the speakers. Until Clint cursed, colourfully, his eyes ablaze with hatred.

“- _ Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us _ -”

It was repeated over and over again. 

Looking back down at his genius, he saw that Tony’s eyes were open. The beautiful whiskey colour dull. The sharp wit non-existent. Pain was clouding them, making them almost unrecognizable from his Tony’s eyes, that sparkled with life and hope and determination. Even if they were producing sparks of irritation or anger, they were never dull. Never this unfocussed. Never empty.

“Tony.” Steve whispered, desperately, leaning forward and pressing his cheek to Tony’s forehead. “You’re going to be okay. I-”

A hand on his shoulder tried to move him backwards and the only reason Steve didn’t lash out was that he couldn’t let go of Tony – and that he knew his team had his back. Literally. 

Looking up, he saw Bruce. His eyes were still acid green, but his expression was calm and determined. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. Steve moved aside, making room for Bruce, as he kneeled down beside him, his focus solely on Tony’s bleeding chest. 

Steve focused on Tony’s eyes. They were half open by now. He looked into them, trying to find his Tony, the man that could smile, just with his beautiful eyes and let Steve believe that everything would be okay. Who could slay people with one look. 

He didn’t find him.

Glancing to the side, Steve saw Thor step closer to them, his massive shoulders providing necessary shelter. Behind the god Steve could see security clearing the room from the last reporters. Pepper stood to the side, a phone clutched to her ear. Her expression was hidden, but her shoulders were rigid. 

Nat was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Winter. 

“- _ and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us _ -”

For just a heartbeat, Steve pressed his eyes closed, reminding himself, that this was Tony Stark. He was strong. He was better than them. Better than some Hydra goons that hadn’t been stopped just yet. Reminding himself of the indignant look he would probably throw at Steve the moment he woke up in the hospital. Telling him that Steve should have more faith in Tony. That he couldn’t be stopped by a simple bullet. He was Iron Man!

Looking back at his genius, Steve almost choked on the breath he had been meaning to take. The bullet had wedged itself alongside the Arc Reactor into Tony’s body. Most likely harming the Reactor. And his heart. And his lungs.

“- _ Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! We are plenty and our heads are everywhere _ -”

Steve just stared at where Bruce and Clint were now trying to stop the bleeding. He barely realized it when the transmission was cut off and silence fell. What made him move was the convulsing of Tony’s body. The choking sounds.

He pressed his face to Tony’s whispering calmingly in his ears. Pleading with him to stay with Steve. To hold on. To not let go. To trust them, even though they had done nothing but fail him. 

When the paramedics came, Thor and Clint had to move him backwards to let them work on Tony. To let them touch him. Because Tony, who would fight them every single time, didn’t. Because he just lay there, his eyes closed.

“We’re both driving with.” Bruce ordered, his voice hard and absolute.

“That’s not-”

“Shut up.” Clint was between them. Pushing the paramedic back. Protecting Steve?

In the next moment Steve helped Tony on the stretcher. He helped put Tony into the ambulance and cramped himself in the furthest corner, his eyes trained on his genius, as one of the paramedics and Bruce were talking. Checking Tony, pushing a mask over his nose and mouth.

And Tony didn’t say anything. Too far gone already to even know what was happening.

Then he flatlined. 

Steve’s breath froze, reaching out to Tony, but there was no room, as Bruce and the paramedic started to work furiously.

He watched in horror as the broken body spasmed. Again. And again.

On the sixth try, his heart started to beat again. Steve’s had almost stopped.

He flatlined again, when the ambulance stopped at the hospital. Bruce and the paramedic had Tony out of the cramped space before Steve could even move. He followed. Followed the frantic voices. Followed Tony, broken and bloody, because there was nothing else he could do.

When people stepped into his way, trying to stop him, it was Thor and Clint who held him back. He wasn’t sure where they had come from. 

Steve let himself be led by them. Because they wouldn’t… Because he had to?

Because he couldn’t help Tony.

Because he had let this happen.

Because Hydra would do anything, they could, to kill Tony. If they hadn’t succeeded already. 

_ We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark! Hail Hydra! _

Steve let himself fall to a chair Clint had guided him to. If he said something, Steve didn’t hear. Didn’t hear anything other than those words. Tony’s whimper and gasp. The frantic machine. 

When the door opened, he looked up, to see Pepper step into the room. Her expression was hard and cold. Her eyes red rimmed. She was clutching a phone to her chest.

She said something. About Stephen Strange being called. Coming to help. To help Tony. 

Because Steve couldn’t. Because he had  _ failed _ to protect Tony.

Clint and Pepper exchanged information over the phone. Clint telling him that Natasha and Winter had followed the attacker. That he had killed himself. That they were coming to the hospital.

Pepper’s phone rang and she answered. It was Rhodey. Telling her he was on his way. Steve didn’t want to listen in, but his ears were too sharp. He heard the other man’s pain. His fear.

Opening his eyes after endless minutes of listening. Of praying and trying to not think about the last moment he had seen Tony, an oxygen mask pressed over his face, his eyes closed. One of his hands hanging lifelessly from the bed.

Before the doors fell shut.

He wasn’t alone though. Bruce was with him. Bruce, who could help him. Who knew about the Arc Reactor. Who would keep him safe. 

Looking down, his eyes fell on his blood-stained hands. The bright crimson colour that was set off by his pale skin and once pristine light blue shirt.

Tony’s blood was on his hands. 

Leaning forward, Steve didn’t know what he wanted to do, he just couldn’t look at the blood anymore. He needed to get up, to scrub at his skin until it wasn’t Tony’s blood that was sticking to his hands. Not Tony’s blood that-

Clint got up from his chair and left the room. 

Steve concentrated on his heartbeat, fast and frantic while the seconds dropped by slow and agonizingly unimportant. 

What if Tony died? 

Coldness settled into Steve. Into his gut, into his lungs, freezing the air in his throat. Stopping his heart. He couldn’t- He couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t-

What if Tony died?

They were heroes. He was a soldier. Death was part of life. It was nothing to fear, because it was a part of life. 

You lost people on the battlefield. You lost people in life. 

He couldn’t lose Tony.

Twice before he had believed he was dead. Twice before he had felt like all colour had drained from the world. Like all warmth had gone. 

He couldn’t lose Tony. 

He had a mission both times. Find him. Protect the other Avengers. Get his body back. Now, he didn’t have a mission. He was sitting uselessly here in a room he hadn’t looked at. Doing  _ nothing _ while Tony was-

The door opened again. He didn’t look up, but he recognized his team anyway. The graceful, almost noiseless movements of Natasha. The heavier but still graceful and almost noiseless steps of Clint. Even the threatening presence of Winter, overseeing the room, before taking position at the door.

Minutes later, Thor left the room and returned with wet washcloths, pressing them into Steve’s hands. Helping him to get rid of the blood.

Later again, Natasha and Clint moved. They made Winter sit down. They argued with him. Told him he had to be checked over. Steve barely even managed to look at him. He was covered in blood. His own. Not Tony’s. Not like Steve had been.

He didn’t answer, but he showed them already healing wounds. Clint left to get supplies, not letting the nurse enter when she followed him.

They took care of Winter. Winter didn’t comment on it. He didn’t look at Steve either. 

And why should he? He had been against it. Hadn’t wanted Tony to go to the press conference. He had been right. 

Steve had thought it would be okay. It was the middle of the day. He had been surrounded by the Avengers. Nat, Clint and Happy had said they had checked the security. Pepper had said, she had made sure the worst of the worst wouldn’t come. And he would be there to protect his team. To protect Tony.

Still, Hydra had found their way in. They had shot Tony. They had-

Later again, Happy came into the room. He had a bag with him, giving out food and fresh clothes for all of them.

Clint and Thor forced both Steve and Winter to move. To change.

While in the bathroom, washing his hands furiously, he heard people in the corridor talking. About the attack on Tony Stark. About the message Hydra played over the radio and put out into the world. 

Heard them debate whether or not Stark would survive. 

Whether or not he was worth all the trouble.

Steve threw up into the sink, being held up by Thor. Clint handed him a toothbrush. Both their faces were grim. Both of them stayed close to him. 

They also stayed close to Winter, who looked at all of them. His expression too calm. Far away.

Back in the waiting room, Pepper made them eat. She was on the phone again. Organizing the press coverage. Making sure someone managed the lies. Made sure the world knew Tony was still alive. Was fighting for his life. 

Steve didn’t want to know. He pressed his forehead down onto his arms. Breathing. Concentrating. 

Tony was a fighter. He was a fighter. He was stronger than anyone Steve had ever met. He loved life. He loved people. He loved the Avengers. And even if he wasn’t in love with Steve, he loved Steve. They were friends. They were family. 

Tony wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t leave Peter behind. Or Rhodey. He wouldn’t leave Pepper or the Avengers. 

Tony couldn’t leave Steve.

After a while Natasha started to accept calls. Like Pepper. She spoke with Fury. With Charles. With Luca. She talked with people. Organizing. Coordinating.

Steve couldn’t care less. 

He perked up when Pepper reached Dr. Cho. She was in Korea. She would come as soon as she could.

What if it was too late?

When the door opened again, Steve looked up. It was Strange, wearing scrubs, his face dark. His hands were slightly twitching.

“Stephen, my friend, what news do you bring?” Thor asked, his voice quieter than normal.

It seemed, no one else had the guts to ask. Not when his eyes were expressionless and professional.

“The bullet damaged Stark’s heart and his lung. Dr. Banner and I are working with what we have.” There was a slight hesitation. Just a heartbeat. “I fear there is not much we can do. The doctors already stopped trying. We keep him alive as it is, but there is nothing we can do to heal him.”

Steve stared at the Sorcerer Supreme. 

He couldn’t understand the words. They didn’t make any sense. 

“There has to be something you can do.” Pepper said. Her voice was… off. 

“I’m sorry, Miss Potts. I can keep him in a stasis but aside from that we have no idea how to help him. His heart and lungs were already damaged by the Arc Reactor. The additional stress and injuries…” Strange stopped. Exhaling. “There is nothing we can do.”

Steve broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry? I wasn't sure whether or not I should post this tbh... but I did. So here we are.
> 
> If you need something lighter, I posted "Save you from yourself" https://archiveofourown.org/works/29612214 just a few days ago and that is light and happy and maybe we all need that right now. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to scream in the comments at me. 
> 
> Please stay safe, sane and optimistic - and yes I know I'm not helping right now...


	4. Winter: Wordless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers take Tony home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> I hope you had a good week!
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely friend and beta reader for always being there to help!
> 
> Enjoy!

“There is nothing we can do.”

No. 

Winter didn’t move. Didn’t fall forward like the Captain. Didn’t sob like Miss Potts. He stood there like the Black Widow. Like Hawkeye. Frozen. Like statues. Staring at Dr. Strange. 

Hydra had been undecided on his threat level. Standing in front of the Avengers, his face calm, his back straight and his eyes apologetic, Winter didn’t think he could be a big threat. 

He couldn’t even help Tony.

Tony couldn’t die. 

No. That was wrong. Of course, he could die. He was a breakable human. An injured one at that. Winter knew how easy it would be to kill Tony. That was the reason he was staying close to the genius. To protect him. To prevent that. 

But Tony couldn’t die. There was something in Winter’s chest. Something in his throat. It wasn’t fear, but close. It made it hard to breathe. And to swallow. 

Tony couldn’t die.

His feelings were far away, like feeling them through fog. And that was good. Because he saw what feelings could do, if they were close. 

Miss Potts had fallen to her chair, glaring at Dr. Strange, tears falling from her eyes. She was fighting. She didn’t want to accept it. Good. 

The Captain had folded in on himself, his face hidden in his hands, as he breathed. Shoulder’s shuttering. 

Hawkeye moved, slow, calm, no emotion at all visible in his expression, but his eyes screamed of pain. He stepped beside the Captain, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

The Black Widow moved too, slow, deadly, and blank. She stepped towards Miss Potts, offering… what? Strength? Reassurance?

“No.” Thor pushed himself up, electricity sparking all around him, his expression grim and thunderous. “Keep him alive, my friend. I will bring help. I promise you that.” His blue eyes wandered to the Captain, to everyone. And to Winter.

“I shall hurry. Keep him alive!” He ordered again, rushing out of the small room. Which seemed even smaller now.

Dr. Strange nodded to Pepper and turned. Leaving. To help Tony. To keep him alive. 

Because he couldn’t die. Tony couldn’t die.

Looking away from the closed door, he met the Black Widow’s eyes. They were closed off, calculating and challenging.

Winter didn’t know what she might want him to do. They had decided Tony should be on that stage. He had been told to stay back. To not be there. To not protect Tony. Because he was safe. And they had been wrong.

He didn’t say any of that. Mostly because there were no words left in him. Nothing to say. And there was something else about her. Something he couldn’t grasp. Something that was there, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Hawkeye was similar in his expression of… devastation? He was cold, hard, precise and silent. All things he wasn’t in the Tower. He hadn’t even been like that while threatening Winter with death. He had been wary and careful but not cold or silent or motionless. 

Now, he was all of it. He had his hand on the Captain’s shoulder, but his eyes were on the wall, unfocussed, as if deep in thought. 

Winter let his gaze linger on the Captain, who was just a shadow of himself. His normally big body, small and crumbled.

Before he could look any further, Miss Potts pushed herself off the chair, leaving the room without a backwards glance. 

None of them moved. None of them reacted.

Winter was used to waiting. Was used to sitting or standing somewhere for hours on end. Not doing anything.

Why did this feel like torture then? If he knew how to do it, why did he have to force himself to not pace. Why did he want to lash out? To fight something? Sure, he also wanted to go to Tony, to make sure he was alright. To make sure-

The door opened and Black Widow, Hawkeye and himself had their eyes on the newcomer. Who possibly brought news of Tony. Or was here to attack them.

It was Peter. Tony’s kid. His eyes were red-rimmed. His expression was heartbroken.

“Tony?” He asked, a hiccup in his voice. As well as desperation and cruel hope. And fear. A mind-numbing horror that took away his breath and left him almost paralyzed. 

No one answered him. Had they lost their words like Winter? 

As the seconds ticked by, Peter whimpered, his small body shivering. 

Winter didn’t know what he did. Didn’t know what he could do, but he moved forward, opening his arms from where he had crossed them in front of his chest. Mimicking what he had seen Tony do for the kid.

Peter whimpered again, before stumbling forward. In Winter’s arm, clutching at his body with strength that would have crushed the non-enhanced people. Winter closed his arms around the boy, carefully applying pressure. Not hurting. Never hurting Tony’s kid. Comforting. Tony had explained it. Hugs were comforting to people. Especially people like Peter who needed touch to feel safe.

Holding Tony’s kid, Winter hoped to the heavens that someone would tell him what to do when the kid stopped hugging him. Because he had no idea.

He felt the body shiver against him, felt tears soak his sweatshirt. Using his flesh-hand, he gingerly patted his back. Like Tony had done for him, when he had cried. Because he had killed Tony’s parents. Had Tony cried like this when he had heard the news? He had told Winter that he hadn’t loved his parents like this, but he would have cried, right?

There was a movement to his right and his head snapped up, ready to protect the crying boy in his arms with everything he got. But it was just the Captain. Who had sat up. His face was pale, his eyes dark and empty. He had broken. 

The haunted expression sharpened when he saw Peter. The despair seemed to splinter him further. But he didn’t say a word. Just broke a little more.

Moving backwards, still holding the kid tight, Winter sat down, letting Peter curl onto his lap like a cat. Like he had done with Tony. When he had seen Tony after Winter had taken him. A broken kitten that wanted his father. His Iron Mom, like Hawkeye would say, with a teasing smile.

He didn’t. He stood beside Steve. His eyes lingering on Peter, before he locked eyes with the Black Widow. Who didn’t do anything either.

About a half hour later, Peter had cried himself to sleep in Winter’s arms. And Winter was about to panic. What was he supposed to do? How could he help the exhausted kid?

No one said anything. And Winter didn’t have words. 

When the door opened again, Hawkeye and the Black Widow had weapons ready. They would protect their catatonic Captain and Tony’s sleeping kid. 

It was Colonel Rhodes. Tony’s brother. And Miss Potts. Stepping in behind him. Both looked furious. Hurt. Panicked. Desperate. In command. 

“We’re moving Tony.” The Colonel said, his voice hard, cold. Agonized.

All of them looked at him.

“…why?” It was nothing more than a broken exhale. But Colonel Rhodes had heard it all the same.

Rage flashed over his features, before it settled behind a mask of calm and control that was flimsy enough that Winter hadn’t seen it at first.

“Get up. We’re moving him now.” He hissed at Steve. “Barton and Rogers take Peter. You will leave with Pepper and May. Get the Tower ready.”

None of them moved. Both Hawkeye and the Black Widow were glaring dangerously at the Colonel, who didn’t care. He was a man on mission, that much was obvious to Winter. And it had to be obvious to them as well.

When they still hadn’t moved ten seconds later, the Colonel stepped forward, taking Peter out of Winter’s arms. For a heartbeat Winter wanted to fight, but he didn’t. This was Tony’s brother. He had seen them together. He knew that Tony trusted him like no one else. He knew that Peter trusted him too. 

He did nothing. But he wanted to keep Peter close. To make sure the kid was safe. 

Colonel Rhodes huffed under the boy’s weight, turning and pushing the still sleeping boy in Rogers’ arms. Who moved a little too slow, but still caught the kid. Holding him close. In a protective embrace. Like he was breakable, and the Captain had no idea how to handle him. 

Winter could relate to that. 

“Get him home, Steve. Get everything ready, we bring Tony as soon as he will be safe there.” His voice was strained but friendlier. Even if forced. Even if it seemed like it cost the Colonel. 

“I can’t-”

“Now, Steve.” Colonel Rhodes all but growled. 

“Come on, Steve. Let’s bring Tony’s kid home.” Hawkeye patted the Captain’s shoulder, comfortingly. “Pepper will have a car ready.”

“Of course.” Miss Potts stood there, her back straight enough Winter thought it might break. “Let’s hurry.” She turned and left. 

The Black Widow helped Hawkeye get the Captain out of his chair without jostling the exhausted kid in his arms.

“Take care of Peter.” Nat whispered to him. He nodded back. Mechanically. She looked over to Hawkeye and they exchanged an understanding. He would take care of the Captain. She would take care of Tony.

Winter would, too. 

They waited in silence, presumably until they could be sure the Captain couldn’t hear them.

“What happened?” The Black Widow asked, her voice hard and cold. Her eyes fixed on the Colonel as if to catch any lie. Did she think he would feed them white lies to not hurt them?

“The hospital told us to let Tony go. After they heard that Stephen can’t help him, they-” He stopped, closing his eyes just for a second. “As his medical proxy they wanted me to stop Bruce and Stephen. They, and I quote,  _ let us try long enough with our voodoo _ . They say they need the bed.” 

Winter didn’t react. Like the Black Widow didn’t. Not to the incredible hatred that dripped from the Colonel’s words. Not to the hurt screaming out of his eyes. 

Not to the unthinkable concept behind their request.

“What do you need us to do?” The Black Widow’s voice had changed. Every word drew blood. Winter didn’t need to glance over to her to  _ know _ that she would do anything the other man asked of her right now. 

“Until we can move Tony, we need to keep all and everyone of those doctors and nurses out. That’s your job.” He nodded at Winter. “Before that, you need to get your hands on every sample, every scan, every physical evidence that they have. Jarvis is already erasing everything else.”

The Black Widow nodded. “Which room?”

The Colonel told her. They left together. The Black Widow in the direction of the labs. Winter followed the Colonel through corridors, walking faster when he heard Dr. Banner’s strained voice, telling someone to leave.

Seconds later, Winter had pushed himself between the doctor and the Avenger, growling threateningly. He didn’t care that the other man recoiled, stammering something about calling security. 

Planting himself in front of the door, he acknowledged Dr. Banner's thanks and let the Colonel slip past him. Nothing would move him from his spot.

The minutes slipped by. He ignored the discussion in the room behind him. Ignored the worry, he heard. The desperation. Instead, he concentrated on glaring everyone away. No one was stupid enough to try anything. Although, the security was already on this floor, eyeing him carefully.

Almost twenty minutes later, judging by the white clock on the hallway wall, the Black Widow strode towards him, a plastic bag in her hands. Her expression was calm, almost relaxed, but her green eyes were cutting. 

She met his gaze, raising one eyebrow fractionally. Winter moved his head minimally, indicating a headshake. Nothing happened. Not yet. But she saw his body language, had seen the security people at the end of the hallway. She knew they didn’t have much more time before someone would break. 

It wouldn’t be them.

He moved, letting her through. Not reflecting that he let her into the room where Tony lay, injured and vulnerable. That he trusted her to not stab him in the back. Literally. 

He heard the door close, broadening his stance to cover all of it. Not even a minute later it opened again. He didn’t look back, moving to the side, before he froze, as a small hand was placed on his flesh arm. 

“We’re leaving.” The Black Widow whispered, low enough to make sure no one else heard it.

Winter nodded, almost unnoticeably. Watching around a second longer. As soon as the Black Widow dropped her hand and stepped back, Winter turned and followed her into the room.

Tony lay motionless on the bed, his face pale. Almost grey. Winter didn’t see his chest moving, didn’t see him breathing. But none of the other people reacted to it. 

Dr. Banner held onto the bed, one of his hands on Tony’s shoulder. 

Colonel Rhodes stood on the other side of the bed, holding onto it. His expression grim and desperate.

The Black Widow stood at the end of the bed, grabbing it as well. She glanced back at Winter, motioning him to follow her example with his eyes. He did.

Dr. Strange stood beside them. Beats of sweat prominent on his forehead, while he directed some sort of magic towards Tony.

“Ten seconds.” His voice was strained, almost breathlessly, as he waited for the nods of everyone but Winter.

As soon as he got the confirmation, he dropped his hands, letting the magic fizzle out. Immediately, Tony’s blood started to flow, and Winter could hear his heartbeat, weak and erratic.

Dr. Strange didn’t hesitate. He moved one of his hands in a circulating motion, producing a magic circle right in front of them. As none of the others reacted to it, neither did Winter. Even if it moved towards them with incredible speed. They stood in the middle of the living room on the common floor.

Dropping his hands again, Dr. Strange stumbled slightly, before catching himself, raising his hands again, freezing Tony’s body in time again. Winter thought. Because Tony stopped moving as soon as the magic surrounded him.

“Tony?”

Winter looked up, seeing the Captain take a step forward, Peter right by his side. No one stepped forward to stop them. Dr. Banner even moved to the side, letting them stand beside Tony, starting to explain what Dr. Strange did. Winter was right, Tony was frozen in time. That he was safe. That it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Although he didn’t say it like that. 

The Captain took Tony’s hand, flinching when he touched his skin, his expression falling.

The next hours were hard. Winter stood at the wall, keeping an eye on all of them. He didn’t trust the Avengers. They were too occupied by their feelings. Too distracted. Both Hawkeye and Black Widow were on watch too, but from time to time… they seemed distracted. 

Winter wasn’t. He didn’t look at Tony. Didn’t listen to the Captain or the kid. Didn’t listen to the Colonel.

Instead, he kept his eyes and ears open. Noticed the way Dr. Strange weakened. Noticed the way Dr. Banner got more desperate. How his eyes started to blaze green again and again.

By now, it was the early morning hours of the next day. Almost eighteen hours after Tony had been shot.

Peter had fallen asleep in the arms of his aunt, the nurse. No one else had taken the opportunity to rest. Winter understood. He hadn’t either. The thought alone was laughable. There had been few conversations. 

An hour later the rumbling crash that everyone waited for shook the Tower. The change in the atmosphere was almost palpable as shoulders relaxed and held breathes were released.

Winter’s eyes went towards the elevator. Waiting. 

“If I might suggest to grab your weapons.” Jarvis said. His voice hard. Angry.

Winter had a gun and a knife in his hands before the AI had even finished. 

“Jarvis?” The Captain asked, uncertainty loud in his voice. Possibly because his Shield wasn’t here. Hawkeye and the Black Widow both grabbed weapons, both hidden on their bodies and around the room, passing guns to both the Colonel and the Captain, who reluctantly took it. Hawkeye even grabbed a bow hidden under the couch. Arrows and quiver inclusive.

Winter and Hawkeye stayed back taking aim, while the Captain, the Black Widow and the Colonel stepped forward, beside Dr. Banner, protecting Tony and Dr. Strange. And Peter and the nurse.

“Thor asked me to let him explain himself. I am inclined to let him do so as he had never shown any signs of ill intent. If that is a mistake on my part, I’m prepared to right that wrong.”

Before anyone could react to that, the elevator doors opened.

Thor, holding up his hands in the apparently universal sign of surrender came first into view. Behind him stood a tall man with black hair, green eyes and a calm expression. Even though Winter thought he was nervous.

“My friends-”

“What the fuck!” Hawkeye hissed, venom dripping from his voice. 

“Thor?” The Captain stepped forward; the gun held tight in his hand.

“We come in peace.”

“Fuck that!” Hawkeye stepped forward; the arrow aimed at the man with the black hair. Hatred burning in his eyes. “I promised myself to kill you the next time I would see you.”

Thor stepped between them; his expression pained. “My friend-”

“Let him have his shot, brother.” The other man looked around Thor, meeting Hawkeye’s hatred. “He deserves his revenge.”

“It wasn’t your fault, brother.” 

“WASN’T-”

“STOP!” The Colonel hollered, taking a step closer to Thor, his posture hard. “Why did you bring him, Thor.” There was a clear threat in his voice. 

“He can heal our Antho-”

“He will not get one step closer to-” Clint hissed, aggressively.

“Shut up, Barton.” The Colonel growled, getting closer to Thor, his shoulders tense, his voice almost provocative. 

“Tony told me that  _ your brother _ was controlled, too. That you believe he can be  _ saved _ . I get that. I do. But  _ my brother _ is dying as we speak.”

The Captain flinched, an almost silent whimper escaping him.

“So, I want you to look me in the eye and swear on your life that all he will do is save him.” Without waiting even a second, he stepped to the side, glaring at the other man, Thor’s brother, his voice dipping even lower. “And you will swear the same. Don’t think because I’m  _ just human _ I won’t find a way to kill you, slowly.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” The other man said, dipping his head lower in recognition, his green eyes sharp and almost amused. 

Winter didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“Rhodes, you can’t-”

“I swear to you, James, my brother wants to save our Anthony. He recognizes the life debt he has to pay to-”

“NO!” Hawkeye let the arrow fly from his bowstring, and already throwing himself after it, grabbing for a knife.

Winter watched, as the arrow met an invisible wall, splintering on impact. Both the Captain and the Black Widow intercepted the archer, subduing him without hurting him. The Widow pressed her face to his, whispering harshly, breathlessly, ignoring the yelled curses. The desperation.

And Winter understood. Hawkeye had been controlled too. He had been used by that man, by Thor’s brother to kill. To hurt people. He had been hurt like Winter. He had been used like Winter. Like the Black Widow.

He was like Tony and Winter and the Black Widow. Had shadows and ghosts haunting him. Lives he had taken that he hadn’t wanted to take. But had been unable or unknowing to do so.

Right now, he was hurting. He was furious. And he was ready to kill this alien. This demigod. For revenge. To protect Tony. Because if he had done that to Hawkeye, how could they believe he wouldn’t do that to Tony? Or worse?

Thor was pleading with them, with Hawkeye, swearing it was the only way. Promising Loki would help Tony. That it was the only way he knew how to help. That he would never do anything to endanger their Anthony. 

That Asgard and their mother had made sure Loki was himself again. That he had been better for months. That he had a talent for healing and had studied with their mother. That he was wearing magic dampeners and wasn’t a danger to them.

The screaming stopped, when Dr. Strange stumbled, falling to one knee. Dr. Banner turned around, pressing down on Tony’s wound as his blood began to escape his body again. As Peter cried out, moving forwards to Tony’s side, tears in his eyes.

The Colonel hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked back. He didn’t seem to hear the commotion, the pleading of the kid, the urgent voice of the Doctors. Or that the nurse hissed commands. He just glared into green eyes. 

“Swear to me.”

“I swear, I will heal Anthony Stark, not harm him and shall be of service to my brother and his shield-brothers and sisters until my guilt has been erased.”

“You killed-” Hawkeye screamed, but was forcefully ripped back by the Black Widow, making the way free for the demigods to move.

“If we want to save Tony, we have to do it  _ now _ .” Dr. Banner growled with the Hulk’s voice, his hands steady even if the green was spreading all over his skin.

“Everyone out!” Rhodey growled, gesturing for Loki to step forward. “Get healing. Thor, you stay in that corner and watch. You are your brother’s keeper. The rest of you, out!”

The man – Loki – moved smoothly and with the grace of a predator. Winter wouldn’t leave Tony to him.

“Winter.” He looked back at Dr. Banner, who nodded to his hands, and Winter moved, taking his position. He was shaking, mumbling something about the Hulk cage and ran. He was out of the floor before any of the others. Before the Black Widow had wrestled Hawkeye into the elevator. Before the nurse had ordered Peter to follow her.

Loki, seemingly undisturbed, had already started to work his magic, coldness spreading around them, making Winter think of the ice. He wanted to hiss, to get between the threat and Tony, but he couldn’t let go. And the Colonel didn’t say anything. 

The Captain, who also hadn’t left the floor, helped Dr. Strange to sit down, as he overlooked what the alien did. 

Winter wasn’t sure if he would even be able to recognize if Loki would do anything. Was their magic similar enough? Was the wizard coherent enough to realize anything?

But it didn’t matter, did it? Tony was dying. Either Loki would save him, or he would be dead. If he didn’t do worse to him. What if he took away Tony’s mind? What if he took Tony away, saving just an empty body?

“You can let go, friend.”

Winter almost flinched when he heard the voice a lot closer when he had anticipated. He looked up, meeting green, clever eyes. He didn’t see a lie in them. Didn’t see a threat or anything indicating that he wanted to harm Tony. But that didn’t need to mean anything.

“My scans show the worst of the damage to Sir’s internal organs are healed, Mr. Winter.” 

Winter’s gaze snapped up to the camera in the corner. In the AI’s voice had been a lie. Or at least an omitted truth. 

“Jarvis?” Both the Colonel and the Captain asked. The first in a harsh command voice. The second with a bleeding edge to the name.

“My scans aren’t as clear as I would want them to be. Mr. Odinson's magic distorts my readings. What I can see is that Sir won’t bleed out if you let go, Mr. Winter. But the damage to his body is still extensive.”

“Healing is taxing for the body of the injured. As Mr. Stark’s injuries were fatal; it will take time and several healing sessions.”

“Stephen?” 

“He is right.” Dr. Strange sounded exhausted, but he still nodded, decidedly. “It will take time to heal Tony.”

“But you can heal him?” The Captain clarified, his voice void of all emotions.

Loki looked back at the Captain, taking in the picture of him, standing tall, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes cold and hard and pleading. All at the same time.

“I am almost sure, yes. We will see if he will allow me to continue the healing after he wakes up.”

Winter felt his heart make a leap in his chest. As if it had woken up. Finally, he could breathe again. 

“You are sure, brother?” Thor asked, hope loud in his voice.

“Of course, I am.” The green eyes met the blue ones of Dr. Strange. “His body has been held in stasis long enough. As I said, it will take several healings and time for him to make a full recovery.”

“Full recovery?” The Captain whispered, almost noiselessly.

“From his recent injuries, yes.” The god agreed, something like annoyance in his voice, turning back to Winter, one eyebrow raised, as he nodded to his hands, still pushing down on his bullet wound. 

“You can stop pressing down.”

Glancing at the Colonel and receiving a nod, Winter stepped back, letting go of Tony reluctantly. 

The same second he moved backwards, the Captain stepped forward, grabbing one of Tony’s hands and sighing. It seemed as if all of the world’s sorrow was let go with it. His blue eyes focused on Tony; his lips pressed into a thin line.

Winter ignored the sticky blood on his hands, stepping a little farther back, to have everyone in his line of vision.

Thor was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Relief was obvious in his expression. And pride? 

The Colonel stood close; the stress visible in the bags under his eyes. Still, he was alert, keeping watch over Tony. Making sure he wasn’t hurt by Loki. 

The alien stood beside the bed, a greenish glow around his hands and Tony. Right now, his focus was on the unresponsive genius. His expression unreadable. 

Winter didn’t like it. If Tony thought, he had been controlled himself… Then that meant he was like Winter. But he had also controlled Hawkeye. Winter didn’t know how that worked. If he had to guess, the god was as dangerous as either the Black Widow or himself. Maybe even worse if he had magic.

If he had betrayed Thor before and had controlled Hawkeye, and fought against the Avengers, there was no reason to assume he wouldn’t do that again. If he hadn’t done all of it while being controlled. But even so, how could they make sure he wasn’t controlled right now?

Winter wasn’t, because he hadn’t been on a chair for a long time. And Tony had said, he and Jarvis had found two of them, the only two that were listed anywhere. And they had been destroyed by people Tony trusted.

Winter was safe. 

The Black Widow was probably safe, too. Tony hadn’t told him exactly what had been done to her, but that she had lived through something similar to Winter, but when she was a child and with practices a mere human could survive. 

As long as Winter didn’t know what had happened to Loki and how he had been controlled and forced, there was no way to say whether or not he was safe.

And as long as they didn’t know whether or not he could do that again to other people, none of them would be safe, wouldn’t they?

Watching wordlessly, Winter let his gaze wander to the Captain, who clutched Tony’s hand in his own. His eyes finally showed signs of life again. Of hope. Of a will to fight. 

Which was good. They would need it. Judging by all the remarks, by all the reactions, they would need everyone at their best. Or at least functional.

Exhaling, Winter looked down at Tony, his pale face, pain lines edged into his skin. At his calm(er) moving chest. Listening to his still weak, but steadier heartbeat. To his still wet but even breathing. 

Then, Tony twitched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See! There is hope!
> 
> It will take time, sure, but he will recover. 
> 
> And there is even a chance Loki doesn't have ulterior motives - right?
> 
> Thanks for reading! And for all your AMAZING comments!
> 
> Stay safe, sane and optimistic!


	5. Tony: Articulate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony’s POV?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> This is kinda... artsy? An experiment? I’m really interested in learning what you think of this :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Something was wrong. Tony knew that, mostly because there was nothing else, he knew – and that was… not right. (He also thought he should be… better with words. Which probably also had a word he should be able to use. But he couldn’t remember.) So, yeah, something was wrong alright. 

Having no context didn’t help at all. 

Trying to push, something that felt natural to him, ended with numbness, with pain stabbing through that fog – but without clearing it. That was wrong too. Pain was supposed to cut through it and clear his mind, wasn’t it?

Not having any answers was fucking frustrating. The fact that he couldn’t do anything about that was as frustrating. 

He was almost sure that there had been more to existing. Like… something. He was absolutely sure there was more. He just couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think of anything.

Then there was a presence in his mind. Cold. Precise. Threatening? Tony wasn’t sure. It brought feelings with it – which should be good. Everything was better than this non-existence. This nothing he had been in. 

But even though it was good to feel, there was no clarity. No way for him to react. Should he be reacting? Doing something? Fighting felt like a good choice. But he didn’t know how to. Or what would happen if it went away again.

The presence grew stronger, touching against something, lightning it up like fireworks. Sparks flew, lightning erupting – and thoughts. Memories?

He is a child. Small. He plays with something. No. Not playing. Working. He is working. Other kids play but he is… he is something. Something that makes him different. Different is important. And it is bad.

There is pain. And a dark figure towering over the child. A loud voice. Harsh words. There is… more. But he doesn’t want to see it. He doesn’t want the presence to see it. He remembers. And he doesn’t. It is far away. The pain still feels real right now. The sting of the hand. The humiliation. The fear. The burns. The shards.

He wanted to reach out to the child and protect it. Because that was what you did with children, right? You protected them. You loved them. You-

But that child was bad, wasn’t he? There was something. Conflicting words. Conflicting emotions. Self-loathing, hatred, desperation and fear. 

The presence moved closer, and Tony wanted to fight. It shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t see this. It-

Before he could do anything – if he could do anything, he wasn’t sure – it touched something else. There were more sparks. More lightning. More pain. 

He is still a child, but much bigger. The pain is bigger too. It is the same and different. It is all consuming. But now there is a different shadow. That one is good. Safe. He wants to get to the shadow because with him, Tony will be safe. Because the shadow will take care of him. He will read stories for babies to him. And Tony will be safe.

But there are other shadows. That grab him. Rip at him. Taking. Taking everything. They push and pull and take and take and take.

These memories seemed to be blurrier and sharper at the same time. As if you could cut yourself on their edges but couldn’t look at them directly.

They were soaked in shame and fear and hatred. Against anything and everything. And there was other pain, too. Cuts. And hits. Forgetting for a time. But never escaping.

The presence moved again, and Tony wanted to fight it. To plead with it. He didn’t know why, but he knew it was just going to get worse. And he was right. 

Everything lights up again. The pain is sharp. Dust in his mouth and water in his lungs. There are rough hands on him. Forcing. Hitting. Starving him. His chest being ripped open. Someone holding his heart in their hands. Ripping. Destroying. Taking. Always taking and taking and-

There are flashes of warmth. But they are gone before he can reach for them. Gone, before he can identify anything beyond fear and the absolute knowledge, that he will be left. Even if the shadow is there again. The good shadow. The one that he is safe with. He is there and he helps with the pain. And the fear. 

That shadow didn’t take. Tony was taking from the shadow. And it was still there. In his memory. And… more? In the… the other? The outside?

Tony tried to grasp. For words, because there had to be words! And even if he didn’t know how or why or when or anything, really, he knew that he was good with them. With words. 

There was a feeling from the presence. It wasn’t bad. It was… laughing? About him? With him? Couldn’t be. He wasn’t laughing. Looking at his life he couldn’t think there was much that he could laugh about. He-

The presence moved, lightning fast, touching something else. It shone bright. Hurting and not hurting. Flashing through him. Making him warm. Making him hurt less. Making him… heal?

That was important. Healing. Injury. He… he… there was something on the tip of his tongue. There was something. But before he could concentrate on it, before he could start to react to it, the light, the warmth, enveloped him. Drowning him. 

No. That was wrong. Drowning was bad. It hurt. So bad. This didn’t hurt, it… there was warmth. Trust? Love? Warmth. Feelings that didn’t rip.

His shadow was part of it. A constant he had had for years and years. He was there. In the warmth. Arms around his shoulder. Gentle hands on his face. A body pressed close and holding on.

But there were more. Shadows that glowed. That were there. They were different. All important. All close and warm and… safe. They were all safe.

One of them glowed brighter than the rest. Hot like the sun and as unreachable. But the sun didn’t have to be near to give life, had it? It had just to exist. That glowing shadow was Tony’s sun. It didn’t have to be close. Shouldn’t be close. Because if inventors got too close to the sun they died. 

They fell. From the sky.

Darkness flooded the space. The… where was he? There were no… things. Nothing to grasp and to tell and to hold onto. Nothing but the glowing shadows. Even when the dark engulfed him, trying to take. To take everything away, there were the shadows.

They were around him. They were protecting him from the darkness? 

In front of him was the sun-shadow, big and warm and so bright, Tony could barely look at it. Beside him was the other shadow, the one that had been there for years. And all around them were more shadows. Somehe thought were new, and he felt protective about. 

No, that was wrong. He wanted to protect all of them. All of those shadows standing up to the darkness trying to swallow him. 

But two shadows he still felt  _ more  _ protective of. There were shadows that had a long history with him. Shadows he knew weren’t there anymore.

And there were four who seemed to have… things. Slicing at the darkness.

In their midst he was safe. He knew that. Even if he had no goddamn clue what the darkness was. Or what it would want from him. What it would take from him.

He shook, when a pulse of energy, of pure power flashed through him, eradicating the darkness. And taking Tony’s strength with him.

Collapsing to his knees, he realised he had been standing? He had a body? Well, of course he had a body. It had been hurt. His soul too, being ripped and shredded at least as brutally as his flesh had, but- what had been his point?

Grasping at straws, he looked up. His shadows were still there. And so was the presence. It too was a shadow now, but not one of his glowing ones. But he stood between them. Looking at Tony. Judging.

It offered Tony a hand. And Tony just knew that this was a bad idea. Something was up. And if he had more words and more thought and-

But it didn’t matter, did it? The shadows… they protected him. And he had to protect them. He couldn’t. Not here. Not without… what he needed. Not here. So, he had to go with the presence. To that place where he had been hurt again and again. 

It didn’t matter, though. Because out there would be the shadows. Most of them, at least. And he wanted to be there. With the one who had been there for so long. And with the sun, even if he was already too close, burning himself. He wanted to be there for the ones that needed protection. 

He wanted to be with all of them, damnit.

Reaching out, he touched the presence and for a heartbeat he saw a smile and green, mischievous eyes. 

Then there was pain. Exhaustion. Voices. His family. 

“Tony?” 

It’s Steve’s voice. Close. Hopeful. Fearful. Desperate.

“Come on, Tones, stop being a drama queen.”

Rhodey. His Rhodey. Who had carried his ass since he had the misfortune to meet Tony when he was a little fuckup in MIT. 

They needed him to say something. And he was Tony Stark. That meant something. It was still unclear what. But it meant something. It was important. And he had been right. He was fucking good with words. 

Scrapping every last bit of strength together, he opened his mouth, forcing one word out, before he fell unconscious. 

“…articulate…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Have I finally lost it? :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for your comments! They mean the world to me! 
> 
> Stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovely readers!


	6. Steve: A Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are running high in the Tower right now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> this got a little angstier than planed... I really don't know what happened. Just know that the Happy Ending is guarantied. 
> 
> Please enjoy :)

“…articulate…”

From now on, this was going to be the most beautiful word Steve had ever heard. 

Even though Tony had breathed it silently enough that only he, Winter and Loki had been able to pick it up. Even though it had been raspy and slurred and made no sense at all.

It was the most beautiful word, because Tony had spoken it, proving that Loki hadn’t lied. That he had started to heal Tony. And that he was getting better. 

After they had hoped for it for almost… he didn’t know. Looking down on his wristwatch, he felt the strained muscles in his neck move almost reluctantly. Twenty-six hours. Almost twenty-seven.

Looking up again, he made sure to check that Tony was still looking better. Not good. It would take time. Loki had said it and Stephen had confirmed it. Instead of grey, he looked just pale. Instead of whimpering if he wasn’t frozen in time, he breathed evenly, even if a little slow.

And his heart was beating again in a steady rhythm. 

It almost didn’t matter that he had fallen asleep just seconds later. He had been coherent. Or at least awake enough to say something. 

He would recover. 

Tony would recover.

He hadn’t lost him. 

Tony was alive and he would keep being alive. And if it was the last thing Steve was going to do, he would keep Tony alive. 

Loki moved and Steve’s eyes flickered to him, carefully taking in the man that had tried to overthrow the world eighteen months ago. The man that Thor claimed as his brother. Who apparently had been manipulated. And, true, now his eyes were a startling green and no longer blue. Still. He had tried to enslave the human race. Had tried to kill all of them. 

Even though his plan, as Tony had told him, hadn’t been good. And Steve, in some dark nights, had wondered how someone who was famous for his sharp intellect and cunning plans could have messed up this badly.

Steve had come up with at least seventeen better plans in a week. After that it hadn’t been a far step to ask himself whether or not Loki had  _ wanted _ to lose. 

Still, Loki had tried to take over the world. He had killed people, had-

He didn’t condemn Hawkeye for what he had done while being controlled. Didn’t condemn Winter for what he had done as Hydra’s Asset.

Loki moved back, signs of exhaustion visible in his expression and slightly uncoordinated movements. He had been healing Tony for the better of seven hours now, taking over when Stephen had all but collapsed.

The wizard was still with them, looking close to blacking out. But he had not asked to leave. When he fell asleep, they had moved him to the couch. 

Neither Rhodes nor Winter had moved. The Colonel drank coffee to stay awake, not letting his eyes wander from his brother for longer than it took him to blink. 

Winter, like a statue, had stood in the corner of the room, watchful of anything and everything. 

Steve knew both he and Winter needed to eat and drink soon. Bruce and Tony had run some tests, watching them, taking blood samples when they both agreed to it, and found out that Winter wasn’t quite as strong or fast, but almost. It also meant they both needed an almost ridiculous number of calories a day. 

They needed to eat. 

He didn’t care. 

Tony was alive. He was getting better. 

“Brother?” Thor stepped forward. As he had been standing out of Steve’s eyesight, he had forgotten about his teammate. Too focused on Tony.

“My magic is rather limited with the dampeners.” Loki said, dismissively. “It doesn’t make a difference for Stark. His body is healed as much as I’m comfortable doing to him in one session.”

Thor nodded, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, brother.”

“When will you continue?” Rhodes moved closer, resuming his position at Tony’s head.

“If he allows me to, I will continue tomorrow.”

It was the phrasing that made Steve nervous. He should be thankful that Loki appeared to be concerned about what Tony wanted. Steve should be concerned with what Tony wanted. And he was, of course he was. But what if Tony didn’t want to be healed by Loki? What if he didn’t trust Loki to do this?

What if he hated them for letting Loki get close to him while he couldn’t consent to it?

“That is not going to be a problem.” Rhodes all but growled.

“If you say so.” Loki’s smile was mischievous. It started a lot of warning bells in Steve’s head. He needed sleep. Needed to recover enough to actually be able to think. He could almost feel his thoughts moving slow like honey dripping from his brain.

He didn’t go to sleep.

Instead, he pulled the chair even closer to Tony’s bed, clutching the limp but warm hand in his and breathed with Tony. Listening for every heartbeat. 

All the while Strange offered to take Loki with him and both Thor and Loki agreed. Steve barely cared enough to even listen to them.

As soon as Strange had circled them back to his Sanctum, Jarvis let the Avengers back onto the floor. 

None of them had used the time to sleep or rest. Not unsurprisingly. They had watched the live feed, making sure Loki didn’t do anything to Tony or the others.

Steve mostly ignored the fight between Rhodes and Clint. It ended abruptly when Pepper came back from where she had tried to manage the media and told Clint that they had been Tony’s family far longer than the Avengers. 

Which had started a whole new fight that ended when Bruce, worn-out from the last day and his hulking-out, stumbled back onto the floor and checked Tony over. With the help of May and Jarvis.

They came to the same conclusion: Tony was going to recover. He was no longer in critical condition. 

And Steve, after hearing the confirmation from people he actually trusted, melted, his muscles relaxing all at once.

Natasha, thoughtful Natasha, had Thor get another bed and put it close enough for Steve to keep clutching Tony’s hand.

Even though he felt Tony’s warmth and heard his heartbeat and breathing, his sleep was restless. He was woken from two nightmares, first by Natasha and then Thor, both loosening his hand around Tony’s. 

After the second nightmare, he just laid down again, with closed eyes, not wanting to fall asleep again. Trying to fight those memories. All his fears. His failures. The feeling of Tony’s warm blood running through his finger, feeling it drip down. He couldn’t hold it in Tony. He couldn’t even hold it in his hands because it was too much. 

The moment Tony’s heart had given out. The moment Tony had been dead. These minutes that had felt like an eternity. Some part of him was still stuck in that moment. Looking down on Tony’s broken body and  _ knowing  _ that he was gone. 

_ Knowing  _ that he was too late.

_ Knowing  _ that he would never be able to tell him that he loved him. 

_ Knowing  _ that he had lost him.

But he hadn’t. Tony was here. Right beside him. Breathing on his own. His heart beating in a calm rhythm. 

He was going to be fine. He was going to recover. He was going to bounce back like only Tony could. In no time, they would have to plead with the genius to stay in bed. To let his body heal.

Because Tony was fine. And Tony would want to fight. He would want to go against Hydra. Steve knew Tony felt guilty because he hadn’t helped with the fights when they had tried to take over the world. Which was ridiculous as he had been injured, had been operated on during the worst of it. But it didn’t change anything.

He was Atlas, holding up the sky. He was Prometheus, giving the world fire and the skill of metalwork. He pushed himself harder than anyone Steve had ever met. And he punished himself more harshly for being human than anyone else.

As if he had to be a God, a Titan. Not because he felt like he was one, but because he had accepted it as his duty. As his burden to bear. And every time he did something that was almost magical, he thought it wasn’t enough because a God would have done more. 

Although Steve wasn’t sure anymore. Thor had been thought to be a god by humans centuries ago and… he didn’t hold himself to the same standards Tony forced upon himself. And he didn’t fault Thor for it. He might be an alien prince with magical powers and could outlive the whole human race, but he was still just a person. Not technically a  _ human _ being, but still a being with feelings and thoughts and wishes. 

That was what made heroes. What made people. Their desires and beliefs. The hills they chose to die on, knowing their lives would end and not caring, because what they believed in was bigger than themselves. 

Tony was a hero, there was not a single doubt in Steve’s mind. They all were. All of them. Winter might still be struggling, but he would become a hero, judging by the way he acted and how much he admired Tony. Peter already was a hero, even if he was still a child. 

All of them had earned it through tears and sweat and blood. Sure, Steve pushed himself, wanting to be better and faster, to help more people and to keep his own safe. But he knew, even if he might forget it some days, that he was just a small guy from Brooklyn, having been granted a purpose. That being him serving humankind as one of them, standing up to protect those who couldn’t do it on their own.

Sometimes Steve thought, Tony didn’t know he was one of them. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint it and he hoped it had gotten better, that he had learned in the last year that he was one of them. A human. A person that was loved for being that person. That was allowed to stumble and fall. To fear and doubt. That no one who loved him wanted him to be this grand creature.

Sometimes, and that had an ascending trend, he wanted to go to the past and save the bright-eyed child that Tony must have been at one point in his life. 

He must have fallen asleep again, thinking about Tony’s beautiful whiskey-coloured eyes set in the face of a small child with the troublemaker smile Tony liked to smile when he decided to rile up Fury or the press. When he decided to play a prank or be exceptionally sarcastic. Steve knew that smile meant trouble, but he couldn’t help himself, he loved it. He wanted to go back in time and see it on a happy child, who knew he wouldn’t be hurt by those that were supposed to love and protect him.

Because, and Steve knew that in a way he knew he loved Tony, he would have become a hero even if he hadn’t suffered like he had. It might have been different. He might not have become Iron Man, but he was a hero at heart. And that was something you couldn’t hide.

Waking up for the third time, Steve felt more relaxed. He hadn’t been shaken from a nightmare. Instead, he had seen Tony’s smile. Warm and trusting and  _ alive _ . Moving around, he looked at the living room to his right. The floor was once again littered with mattresses, pillows and blankets. 

By this point they should just commit and put them in a room on this floor when they didn’t use them. 

Winter, Rhodes, Bruce and Nat were sleeping between the pillows. They looked relaxed enough, even if Rhodes' forehead was slightly furrowed. 

Pepper sat on one of the couches, a Starkpad on her knees tipping furiously. Thor sat closer to the open space between kitchen and living room, his expression troubled.

Clint had perched himself on a cupboard in the furthest corner of the living room, overlooking all of them with a coldness in his eyes that almost frightened Steve. 

Looking back to Tony, he saw that Peter had curled himself up like a kitten beside Tony’s legs. The smile had spread over his face before Steve could even realize it.

Moving noiselessly, he got up from the bed, forcing himself to let go of his genius’ hand, to gingerly lift Peter up.

He woke, blinking up at Steve, confusedly.

“It’s okay, Peter. Go back to sleep.” Steve mumbled, reassuringly, before laying him down beside Tony.

Trusting Steve, Peter curled around Tony’s arm, sighing contentedly, before he fell back asleep. 

Taking a step back, he met Thor’s gaze.

“We will keep our Anthony safe, my friend.”

There was no comment from Hawkeye and Steve looked at him, worried. This was not like their archer. His eyes were cold when they met Steve’s, but he nodded an affirmative.

It was harder than Steve had thought it would be. And he had known it would be hard. Stepping back from Tony. Turning his back on him. Leaving the floor, because Jarvis told him there was no change of clothes on the common floor.

Steve hesitated before riding up to Tony’s. He was living here too, now. Almost two months. Maybe it would stay that way when he told Tony. Or he would have to move out. If Tony didn’t want him. Or thought Steve had taken advantage. 

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve looked up at the corner of the bedroom where Jarvis’ camera was. Only now realising he had been standing motionless in front of their- of Tony’s bed.

“Yes, Jarvis?” He bit down on the pressing question whether or not Tony was alright. Jarvis sounded relaxed. He would have told him right away if something was wrong.

“Sir is going to be fine.”

A shuddering exhale wound itself out of Steve’s throat. Shaking him. 

“Yes. He- I-” He didn’t know what he wanted to say. 

“I suggest you take a shower, Captain.”

“Yes, I- Jarvis?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“How are you- How are you holding up?”

Silence filled the room. 

For a moment Steve wasn’t sure if he had crossed a line, but then again, last time, Jarvis had been cut off after he thought his father had been killed. He couldn’t imagine how the AI felt. 

“Every time situations like these occur, I think I have already seen the worst. By now I fear… that there will always be something even worse to come.”

It wasn’t really an answer. And it told Steve everything.

“I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Captain.”

“It wasn’t yours either.” A memory flashed before his eyes. He, sitting in front of a screen, that mere minutes ago had displayed the Winter Soldier apparently shooting Tony in the head, dragging his corpse away. 

Steve almost choked.

Jarvis didn’t comment. Steve was thankful for it. 

Forcing himself under the hot shower, he tried to relax. To loosen his muscles that were in that weird state between tension and being a crumbled wet paper tissue.

After getting dressed again, Jarvis informed him that Pepper had ordered food for all of them, and that Dr. Cho was on her way.

“Is she-”

“Colonel Rhodes let me inform her about everything important. She decided to come nonetheless to, I quote,  _ make sure the idiot doesn’t kill himself _ .”

It was supposed to be humorous. It fell flat for both of them.

Glancing at the time, he realized it was already after eight pm. He had barely slept four hours.

The meal was a tense affair. Clint wasn’t speaking at all. He didn’t even come down from his position, just accepting food from Nat that she held up for him to take. Apparently, she and Colonel Rhodes were already using their sources to hunt Hydra down. 

What did Steve do? He had showered.

Nat, when not asleep, never let Tony out of her sight, as if making sure he was still there. Still asleep and healing. She didn’t talk just nodding to what Rhodes said, tipping on her Starkpad. Her eyes cold and threatening, especially when she looked at Thor.

The god in turn appeared to be heartbroken. 

Bruce was sitting close to him, offering comfort and reassuring touches. Even though his troubled expression and the way his gaze snapped to Tony every other minute was enough to make sure he was supporting Thor, not necessarily his decision. 

Steve understood. All of them. He did. He was just too exhausted to say anything about it. He knew he had to. He was one of their team leaders and now that Tony was unconscious, it was his job to keep the team together. His job to make sure they were fine.

He didn’t. Worse still, he let the team carry him. When they were barely able to carry themselves.

They were all on their breaking point. Actually, scratch that. They were beyond their breaking point. They had broken again. After just starting to mend.

Thor had done exactly what he had promised to do: he had found a way to save Tony’s life. And in the nick of time, too. 

He glanced towards Winter, who was double-teaming Peter with May, forcing the kid to eat something. If Bucky would still be in Winter, if there was a way to get him back, Steve knew, he would do it, without a second of hesitation. And he would trust him. No matter what he did before. He knew Bucky. He loved Bucky as his brother, and he would have died for him. 

Couldn’t he understand Thor? Who had seen his brother change and then commit horrible crimes just to find out that he had been controlled? That everything he had done hadn’t been his fault? Wouldn’t he be thankful too? Trusting that once he was healed from whatever had been done to him, his brother would be back?

Didn’t he get it?

Glancing towards Hawkeye perched up high, his bow ready in one hand while he ate with the other, he couldn’t say yes. Because Loki had hurt one of his own. He had gotten to Clint, taken his mind and forced him to kill his co-workers, had made him fight against Natasha. 

Loki had been forced to fight against his brother, though. Had been forced to kill hundreds of whom Steve knew. Maybe more. He should be sympathetic. He should be at least open to let him prove himself, shouldn’t he?

Fuck. He wasn’t even sitting with his team right now. Aside from Clint, everyone was on the couches surrounding the mattresses and pillows. Steve was sitting beside Tony, who was still unconscious. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t leave Tony. Couldn’t- 

He had to. He knew he had to. It was what Tony would do. And he knew it was what Tony would want him to do. For Tony, the team always came first. Steve understood it and in any other situation he would have agreed wholeheartedly: the team came first. Of course, it did. 

But right now, it felt like he had to decide between Tony and his team. It wasn’t. Of course not. He was in the same room for Christ’s sake. He wouldn’t leave Tony behind. He wouldn’t turn his back on him. He could literally sit down with them in a way that he would be able to see Tony the whole time.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t-

About an hour later Dr. Helen Cho stepped onto the common floor. She didn’t look surprised, nor commented on what she saw. Waving Bruce and May over, they started to examine Tony again. 

Winter tensed, but didn’t get between her and Tony, watching carefully. 

Dr. Cho agreed with all the statements before: Loki was healing Tony. She and Jarvis even scanned his brain with some kind of machine she had brought with her. As far as she could tell, he was fine.

During the night, Steve woke every time when Tony moved. It was a good sign that he had started to move around and whoever was awake when he moved always jumped up, getting closer to make sure he was actually fine.

That if he woke up, they would be close. 

But he didn’t wake up. Instead, he had nightmares. Or at least Steve was sure he had nightmares. Tony would frown, his heartbeat and breathing would fasten, and he would fidget.

The only thing that stopped Steve from freaking out was the fact that Tony would nuzzle in his touch. Would calm down whenever he would pet his hair and whisper reassurances to his genius. And he would fall back asleep, apparently assured that he was safe. 

In the morning his team sent him upstairs to shower. They did it in shifts, making sure two people at mostleft the floor at the same time.

When Steve returned, he saw Hawkeye and Thor stare at each other, their body language almost threatening. The atmosphere was tense, like heat in a summer forest just waiting for a spark to set everything aflame.

“What-”

“Finally.” Rhodes turned to Steve, glaring at him. Without explaining. Although, he didn’t need to. Hawkeye was clutching his bow tight enough in his hand that Steve was almost sure he would have snapped it, if it wasn’t one of Tony’s. He stood with his back to Tony and was full on in Thor’s personal space, glaring up at the good, daring him to try to move him.

“Clint.”

“No.”

“My friend,” Thor began, his expression pained. Still, there was irritation in his eyes and in his voice. “I understand that you don’t trust my brother-”

“I  _ hate _ him.” Clint growled, low and threateningly. 

“Even if it pains me, I-”

“How can we be sure he isn’t messing with Tony’s head!” Clint hissed, venom dripping from his every word and if Thor’s expression was anything to go by, Clint was getting on his last nerve. 

“I told you, he was controlled himself, he-”

“And do you have any proof aside from his eye color that he was-”

“Be careful my friend,” Thor growled, sparks dancing in his eyes, “how you progress. He was as much a victim as you and-”

“Stop!” Getting between them, Steve put a hand on each of his teammates and pushed them back. 

Clint growled, not moving any inch farther away when Steve had forcibly pushed him. 

Thor had actually shocked Steve with some electricity running over his body, although not strong, it had still hurt and Steve used it as an excuse to start with him.

“Thor, I get that you trust Loki-”

“He is healed! I would have never risked you or our Anthony if I-”

“I know Thor, I understand. But the last time we saw him he tried to enslave humankind. He  _ did _ enslave Clint. We can’t just ignore that.”

“Can’t you?” The god hissed back, his eyes staying on Steve. As if he knew any doubt Steve had ever had about Loki. As if he knew what Steve had mused about yesterday.

Instead of answering, Steve turned to Clint, his expression softening just a little. “Loki did help.”

“ _ We don’t know that _ !”

“Stephen said so. Dr. Cho said so. May said so. Bruce said so.  _ Jarvis _ said so. Do you think any of them are working for Loki?”

“I can assure you, Agent Barton, that I did not see any attempts. My readings didn’t detect any magic from Mr. Odinson aside from his healing which had direct and measurable influence on Sir’s-”

“But you can’t be sure.” Clint hissed, glaring at one of the AI’s cameras. “You can’t know!”

“Clint-”

“No!” Clint stepped back, his back pressing against Tony’s bed. “Just because  _ you  _ are willing to risk him doesn’t mean-”

Steve actually stepped back. It felt like a gut punch. Like the Hulk had slapped him across the room. His stomach dropping, his heart stopping, and- there was no air.

“ _ Don’t. You. Dare. _ ” Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes stepped in front of Clint daring him with his voice, his posture, his glare to repeat those words. “Tony is my brother. I carried his scrawny ass since he was  _ fourteen years old _ . I was there when his parents died. I was there when he drank himself into a stupor. I was there when he was so high on drugs, I was sure he would overdose any day, trying  _ everything _ to get him help. I was there when he got on his feet. I was there when he started to live again. I was there when-” He stopped himself, seething. Taking a calming breath, he looked back into the hard eyes of Clint. “I searched for three months nonstop when he was taken by the Ten Rings. I was there when the aftermath hit. I was there when- You don’t stand there and tell  _ me _ that I would risk Tony.”

Turning around, he glared at Thor. “Tell your brother to come. Tell him to heal Tony. And if  _ anyone _ intervenes without probable cause, I will shoot them myself.”

No one spoke afterwards. No one reacted when Loki and Stephen entered via magic – even if everyone tensed even further. Steve, Winter and Rhodey were close to Tony the whole time. Bruce, May, Dr. Cho and Stephen oversaw every movement Loki did.

Clint was perched on his cupboard, glaring down at all of them, an arrow on his bowstring the entire time, while Nat stood right beside the cupboard.

Thor stood on the other side of the living room, glaring at almost everyone.

Thankfully, they had been able to convince Peter to go downstairs and play with Dum-E. At least for the first hour.

Loki worked for exactly three hours, before lowering his hands, looking at Rhodes. 

“It is most likely that he will wake up in the next twenty-four hours.”

“You said he would already be awake.”

“I hoped for it. Clearly I was wrong.”

Steve wanted to strangle the god.

“Clearly.” Rhodes growled, making it more than sure what he thought of all of it.

“Predicting when a patient, especially a magical healed one, will wake up, is difficult.” Stephen crossed his arms. He still looked tired from yesterday. “With a patient like Stark it’s even harder. Not only were his injuries fatal, but his body is constantly under a lot more stress than it should be.”

No one answered him. They also didn’t answer when Loki said again that they would return tomorrow, that he didn’t dare to use more magic on Tony right now, in fear of injuring him. And Steve couldn’t stop himself from thinking that it was a convenient lie to make them accept him back in the Tower – and to beg Loki to push a little more, because Steve  _ needed  _ to see Tony’s eyes open. To see his genius in them. Not the pain haze. Just Tony.

As soon as Stephen and Loki had vanished, after Thor and Loki had a short conversation about his room and whether or not he was taken care of in which Steve was almost sure Clint was about to shoot Loki, Dr. Cho, Bruce and Jarvis made sure the healing actually did progress. They didn’t find anything suspicious. 

It didn’t calm any of them much. 

It didn’t make the atmosphere easier. Everyone still was on a hair trigger. 

At least no one was fighting. Yet. Aside from some hissing. But mostly everyone behaved themselves. Possibly because of Peter. Who stayed close to Tony if he wasn’t baking with Winter. Who was surprisingly good with Peter and in making the kid think about anything aside from Tony. 

That night, Steve barely slept at all. Tony woke him with more nightmares, in which he twitched and moaned, as if in pain. Or fear. And it almost killed Steve. Moving closer to his genius, holding him tightly and whispering promises in his ears. 

Then Tony woke up. Just for a couple of minutes and he was sweating and afraid, but coherent enough to talk to Steve. To recognize him. And to relax the second he saw Steve.

Steve almost started crying when he looked in the trusting whiskey-coloured eyes. When Tony smiled up at him, exhausted and in pain, but relaxing already because he saw Steve. Because he trusted Steve to take care of him. To keep him safe.

He was  _ going to be _ okay. 

He was going to be  _ okay _ . 

_ Tony _ was going to be  _ okay _ .

Steve felt like he could finally breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?
> 
> Also: Thank you for all the comments. I mean it. They mean so damn much to me!
> 
> Please stay safe, sane and optimistic if at all possible.


	7. Winter: How’s Clint?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is finally awake. But because he is Tony the first thing he and the Captain are doing is fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my lovely readers, 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Winter had started to understand the Avengers. He had started to understand their dynamics. What made them tick. Or so he had thought. 

Standing between all of them, who, three days ago, had seemed to be a happy family, he wasn’t sure anymore if he understood them. 

Hawkeye, who, after accepting Winter, had started to play pranks on him, who tried to steal Winter’s muffins, who seemed to smile most of the time, showed less emotion than the Asset had. 

And he had fought with the Colonel. Twice. Both fights had been short. But vicious. There hadn’t been physical violence, but they had been brutal all the same.

The Black Widow, who had started to calm around Winter, who had started to include him, looked like a statue. Without the dry humour she liked to show or the fondness she had for her teammates. 

Dr. Banner, who had to flee the common floor because he would have attacked the person who had saved Tony. 

Thor’s brother. Who hadn’t done anything to Tony. At least nothing they knew about. Winter, of course, knew, there were still plenty things that he could have done to Tony. They wouldn’t know until he woke up. And he would. Jarvis said so. Dr. Banner said so. 

Thor, who normally was pleasant and exuberant, seemed to be defeated and hurt.

The Captain was barely functional. 

Winter was sure he hadn’t realized that the Black Widow, the Colonel and Jarvis were already hunting down the last remnants of Hydra. That the hacker who had brought down Jarvis seemed to be behind the recording and the messages that were posted on different social media sites. Because they didn’t find anything.

He probably hadn’t realized that they organized search teams. That contacts of theirs had offered their help. 

He most certainly didn’t know about the media responses that Miss Potts managed, whenever it became too much for the blond woman who called her constantly when she was with them, her eyes lingering on Tony with an angry expression on her face. 

As if this was Tony’s fault.

The Colonel, who Winter had thought couldn’t be shook by anything, growled and hissed at almost everyone, barely allowing the Captain to stay as close to Tony as he did. 

The only one who didn’t seem different was Peter. But then again, he was like he had been when Tony and Winter had come back to the Tower. Quiet, afraid and touching Tony more often than not. Which was different. He had been careful, touching Tony often, laying on him or cuddling, but the fear had lessened. Now it was back in full force.

And Winter? He didn’t know. All of this was weird. To him, it seemed almost like the arguing and growling had gotten worse since Tony had gotten better. But that couldn’t be right, could it? 

There were too many questions in his head he couldn’t voice – and the others were too occupied to notice. Or care.

The most pressing one circled in his mind again and again. Why didn’t they hate him as they hated Loki? He understood why Hawkeye was a different case, of course. He was one of them. But why was Winter different from Loki? Because he didn’t hurt one of them? But he had taken Tony and hurt all of them?

Because he hadn’t controlled one of them? He hadn’t, had he? At least not like Loki had. But if it had been his order, he would have. It didn’t make sense. 

Especially since it seemed like Tony thought Loki was innocent – or not-quite-guilty, like Winter. Which was the only reason the others had accepted him. Why did they trust him but were only barely restraining themselves to not kill Loki? Because he hadn’t hurt them like Loki had? Because they didn’t know any of the Asset’s victims?

In that case, why could Tony forgive both of them? 

Judging by the fights he had overheard; Loki had tried to kill Tony. They had fought and Loki had thrown Tony out of a window up on his floor.

It didn’t make sense. 

Additional, Winter was… worried. Of course, he was worried. Everyone was worried. But he was also worried, because he didn’t… feel. It wasn’t like before, when he was the Asset. It wasn’t. (Although he was afraid it might become like that again. But it couldn’t!)

Sometimes there were feelings, but not like they had been days ago. These were… less? Less defined? Less intense? Just less. Even the worry seemed less than it should be.

Tony would know what it was. Maybe something like what made Peter and the Captain appear so… distant. 

That was one of the reasons he had started baking with Peter again. And because he knew that Tony would take care of Peter if he was awake. The other grown-ups didn’t seem to have enough focus to concentrate on Peter.

At least they didn’t snap at him. Winter didn’t know what he would do if they would. In fact, they behaved themselves better when Peter was around. Still. 

All of this was wrong. Winter might not be able to exactly say what was wrong, but he knew all of this was wrong. 

Forewarned by the reactions of the Avengers, he had kept an even closer eye on the god. He hadn’t done anything, aside from smirking, that was even a little bit suspicious. He hadn’t touched anyone without permission. Hadn’t gotten close to anyone. Keeping away from Peter. He only started healing if the Colonel allowed it.

He didn’t ask for anything. Didn’t look around in a suspicious way. He didn’t even comment on the glares and threats.

His magic, presumably always visible with the colour around his hands, was only on Tony. And Jarvis said, he didn’t detect it anywhere else. 

It seemed Thor was right. He really was… like Winter. He was healing. 

Because there was no way he was healed already. No matter what he might want others to believe. No matter how sure he wanted to appear. There had been two instances in which Winter had  _ known _ that the god wasn’t as unaffected by everything as he acted. 

The first time he had healed Tony, there had been a moment, without any reason Winter could detect, in which he had flinched, trying to hide it. But for a heartbeat, his expression had been panicked and agonized.

The second time, his hand had shaken when Peter had asked the Colonel whether or not Tony would wake up.

Shaking himself out of his mood thoughts, he glanced at Hawkeye, who was sitting on the cupboard, his eyes closed, his breathing even. Winter was almost sure he was taking naps between his nightmares. He had seen him wake up with noiseless gasps a couple of times already.

Then again... how would Winter react, if some of his handlers were here and were supposed to help Tony? Actually, he would just kill them. He wouldn’t scream like Hawkeye. He would kill them dead. Fast and precise. Tony would be better off dead then having any of them mess with his head. 

Then, in the middle of the night, just after four am, Tony actually woke up. Just for a couple of minutes. He didn’t talk to Winter. He didn’t do anything but be comforted by the Captain.

Still, when he smiled before falling asleep again, something in Winter loosened. Just for a heartbeat he felt relief, sharp and hard and all consuming, before it dulled again.

Tony had been exhausted, in pain and afraid, but he had recognized the Captain. He had been Tony.

As soon as he was asleep again, the Captain moved closer, pressing his forehead against Tony’s side. He had given his bed to Peter and sat beside him on an armchair. 

His tense muscled loosened considerably and he fell asleep mere minutes after Tony, his face pressed against Tony’s side. His hand holding Tony’s close. 

The next morning the team didn’t have to be informed that Tony had woken up. They seemed to see it in the way the Captain was still asleep. And, apparently, they could read it in Winter’s posture. Although he didn’t know how.

After the Colonel made the Captain confirm their suspicion, he crumbled. Even if just for a moment.

Miss Potts ordered everyone to have breakfast, before they decided how to proceed. The Black Widow and the Colonel would leave the Tower to start hunting Hydra. They would take Thor with them, who was to come back when Loki and Dr. Strange were supposed to have the next healing session. 

For that Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho would be there too. Just to make sure. 

Before that Dr. Banner was asked to go over some data they had gotten. Apparently, the poison the assassin had used to kill himself had been special for one reason or another. Winter really didn’t care. 

Miss Potts would rule Stark Industries with an iron fist, making sure the press didn’t run too wild with the story and appearing calm and colllected, informing the world that Tony was healing.

Peter would be taken home by his aunt. For a day. Peter didn’t want to, but was calmed when Steve, Jarvis, Rhodey and Winter promised they would tell him any and all changes as soon as they happened. 

Hawkeye, as Winter found out at the end of the breakfast, had been drugged by the Black Widow. His lifeless body was arranged on the mattrasses, making sure he was comfortable – and that the Captain and Winter were able to react the second his breathing would change. The Black Widow was sure there wouldn’t be any side effects. Winter believed her. 

About an hour after everyone else left, Tony woke up. It took him a few minutes, but when he opened his eyes, he smiled. First at Steve, then at Winter.

“What did I miss?” His voice was hoarse and week. But there was humour in it. His calming present. And life. 

Tony.

The laugh from the Captain could have also been a sob. Winter couldn’t be sure, as he pushed his face into Tony’s side, the moment their eyes met, holding the genius close with both of his arms.

Winter just glared down at the other man.

“Oh, come on, Buttercup, what’s with the frown?” 

“Tony…” The Captain sighed; his face still hidden. 

“It’s okay, Cap.” Tony’s voice was still raspy, but also calm, warm and relaxed. 

Moving forward, Winter grabbed a glass of water and helped Tony drink a few sips. When the man was finished, he smiled up at Winter.

“Thanks, Buttercup. So, how long was I out? And while we’re on the topic: what happened?”

When the Captain didn’t answer, Tony looked at Winter. There was no way he could answer that with words. 

Lifting his human hand, he formed a gun with his thumb and index finger and mimicked shooting Tony.

“Shot, again?” Tony huffed. “This is becoming a trend, and I know I’m an icon and a trendsetter, but-” He stopped. Most likely because the Captain had pushed himself closer, holding onto him tighter, as if someone was about to take Tony away from him.

Patting the distraught Avenger, Tony looked up at Winter, worry clear in his eyes.

“How long?”

Winter held up three fingers. His expression cold.

“Oh shit.” He looked around, seeing the mattrasses, the pillows, but most likely not the archer hidden between them.

“Where are the others?”

“Trying to stop Hydra.” The Captain’s voice was quiet and muffled.

“Hydra? I thought we already got rid of those fuckers.” There was a smile on his lips, but Winter thought it was more mocking than anything else. Tony and Jarvis had kept looking for more hidden agents and spies, guessing that some where still out there. 

He had been right. 

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Sir? And might I say it is a pleasure to have you back in the land of the living?”

“Thanks, Jay. Bring me up to speed. What happened.”

For a moment there was silent. No one moved. No one answered.

“Jay?” There was a new tone in the genius’ voice. Real worry. 

“You flatlined.” The Captain’s voice was barely recognizable. Emotionless. He sat back up, looking at the Arc Reactor rather than Tony’s eyes. 

Winter was sure, he didn’t see the pain spreading over Tony’s expression. The sympathy and guilt. But he must feel the way Tony grabbed his arm.

“It’s okay, Steve, I’m here. A bullet isn’t enough to stop me.” There was the attempt for humour in his voice. And love. And pain. And way too much guilt. 

The Captain’s eyes snapped up to Tony’s. Anguish in his expression. 

“You flatlined.” He bit out. Barely able to form the words. “Twice. You were…”

“I’m here, Steve. Right here.” Tony smiled at him, apologetic, his hands holding on to Steve’s arm. “You’re not getting rid of me this easy.”

Fear and soul deep agony flashed over the Captain’s expression.

“Steve?”

“The hospital…”

“Sir, the hospital declared you dead seventeen minutes after your arrival. Dr. Banner and Dr. Strange-”

“Strange?” Tony groaned. “You called Strange?” He quieted immediately when he met the Captain’s eyes. The brown eyes flickered to Winter. He wasn’t sure how his expression looked right now, but guessing by the way Tony sobered, it must be angry.

Good. Winter  _ was _ angry. It was still too far away, but he felt the anger. Something to hold onto. 

“Miss Potts called for Dr. Strange, Sir.” The AI’s voice was hard, too. Angry. Frustrated. “He was one of the reasons you survived.”

“Great, I’m indebted to that asshole. What else?”

The AI didn’t answer.

“Jarvis?”

The Captain’s hands moved, closing them around Tony’s, as if he wanted to make sure that the genius couldn’t run. Which was bad. If he wanted to run they shouldn’t stop him. But he was injured, so he had to stay in bed. Dr. Strange, Dr. Banner, Dr. Cho, Jarvis and Loki had said so. 

“Answer me. Anyone. What happened?” By now, there was something like panic in Tony’s voice. Good. Everyone else was panicking about him. 

But that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t Tony’s fault. He hadn’t wanted to go to the press conference. He couldn’t have known that someone would try to kill him. Even if he should have known, shouldn’t he have? Winter knew he had been kidnapped before. Knew there had been several attempts on his life. And still, Tony hadn’t taken more precautions. Hadn’t- but he he had trusted them, hadn’t he?

The Avengers and Winter had failed. Not Tony. They had failed in protecting him.

“Stephen told us… he…” The Captain squared his shoulders, his lips pressed into a thin line while staring in Tony’s eyes. Hard. Trying to make Tony understand?

“He said he could keep you frozen in time but not safe you. Thor-”

“ _ Fuck _ .” Tony almost recoiled, but the Captain held him to tight for him to be able to escape. Something Winter would have to keep a close eye on. 

Tony’s breathing had quickened. His brown eyes large and almost fearful.

The Captain moved closer, murmuring soothing sounds, even when he looked close to panic himself. 

“How’s Clint?”

Winter wasn’t surprised by the question. Not really. Of course, Tony would understand exactly what Thorhad done. From what he had gathered, Thor had talked with Tony about his brother and Tony had accepted everything and comforted Thor. Like Tony did.

Winter had seen the reactions of the archer. Of course, Tony would know about it, would care about it and  _ of course _ , he would care how the archer was feeling.

“ _ How’s Clint _ ?” The Captain asked, disbelief and a simmering anger in his voice.

Not wanting to startle him, Winter stayed where he was, not moving a muscle, but keeping an even closer eye on him. Waiting for a hint he might become dangerous to Tony. Or himself.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Yes. How is Clint? If Loki is here-”

“The hospital declared you dead.” The Captain hissed. “Thor dragged his demented brother back to earth after he had tried to conquer it and Rhodes basically told us he would shoot any of us if we tried to stop Loki from using his magic on you. And your only question is  _ how is Clint _ ?”

“As I’m not dead, Loki doesn’t seem to have tried to conquer us again, if that’s not the reason everyone else is gone – and if that is the reason you have better told me right in the beginning – my eyes are probably still brown, or you would have said something, and I’m sure I’m myself, yes. How is Clint? Because, as you said, last time-”

“Can you, just for one  _ fucking second _ think about yourself!” The Captain screamed, his hands flexing on Tony’s. 

Winter was already between them, forcing the Captain to let go of Tony and pushing him back. He had known the Captain would try to fight him. It didn’t matter. Ignoring Tony’s commands, he pushed the other super soldier a little farther back, keeping his ground.

He would not let the Captain hurt Tony. Never. Also, he knew that the Captain wouldn’t want to. Even if he was right. Tony should think about himself. Just for a moment. Because he almost died. Because he was hurt. Because he was important. 

“Winter!”

He didn’t turn around, keeping his eyes trained on the Captain, who pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes, breathing harshly, as if he had run for miles. As if he was fighting for his life and losing. 

“Steve, what-”

“Sir, calm down, your blood pressure-”

That was enough for Winter to move, turning, he was already back at Tony’s side. Pressing his flesh hand carefully down on his shoulder, catching the almost panicked brown eyes.

“Calm.” He ordered; his voice almost as rough as Tony’s had been.

Tony’s eyes flickered from Winter’s away and he followed the gaze. Steve was standing at the end of the bed, wringing his hands and looking scared, guilty and furious. 

“Are you okay?”

The Captain groaned, pressing his eyes closed for a moment, his hands flexing in the metal frame, denting it. When he looked back at Tony, frustration won out. 

“Yes, Tony. I’m okay. I wasn’t shot. I wasn’t-”

“No, you  _ just _ had to try to keep everyone calm while my honeybear ordered the Avengers to let Loki into the Tower. I’m sure you had a great time.”

Winter glared down at Tony. Could he really be this oblivious? Did he really think  _ the Captain _ was doing anything when Tony was hurt? And of course, it was, again, besides the point. 

“I had a  _ great time _ because you were dying!” The Captain growled. 

“I’m not. I’m fine.”

At that, Winter growled, too, low and harsh and threatening. A growl that would do a lion proud. Or a grizzly. A growl that would have armies cower. 

Tony just rolled his eyes, patting his arm. “Breathe, Buttercup, if the Wizard and a Demigod are working on me and the Hulk didn’t kill any of them yet, I’m as good as fine.”

“Tony…” The Captain’s voice had changed again. Now, he sounded exhausted. Broken. He sounded like he had looked before this morning, when Tony had woken up fully for the first time since they had thought he was dead. Or controlled.

Seemingly without thinking about it, Tony moved forward, ignoring his body, biting back a grimace as he reached for the Captain. Who, without being dragged closer by Winter (and he would have done it) moved around the bed, sitting down on the arm chair again, holding Tony’s hands in his own. 

This time he was careful, holding them like they were fragile. Rubbing his thumbs over the red patches where his grip had been too hard before.

“We thought you…”

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

The Captain shook his head, his eyes still on their hands.

“I don’t- We wouldn’t survive without you, Tony.”

“Sure, you would.” Tony said it with a smile. Reassuringly. As if he actually believed it. 

The Captain just shuddered as if holding back a scream. 

“I… We need you, Tony. The team needs you. This  _ family _ needs you. I need you.” The last three words he muttered so quietly; Winter was almost sure Tony hadn’t heard them.

“Still here, still kicking and still being a pain in your ass.” The genius nudged the Captain’s hands, playfully. “I’m okay, Steve.”

The Captain sighed deeply while Winter huffed. 

“I’m not sure I should ask, but how is-”

Sighing deeply again, the Captain tried to answer. But it seemed he didn’t have words either. “Clint is... He is…”

“Not fine, then.”

The Captain met Tony’s eyes. He looked beyond exhausted. “No. Not fine.”

“Fuck.” Tony moved, slightly, as if to ease pain. 

Winter turned, to grab the pain medication from the kitchen counter where Dr. Cho had left it with strict instructions. Freezing when Tony asked his next question.

“How is Thor?”

The Captain sighed again, apparently even more tired and done with the world. “Thor isn’t fine either.”

What the Captain didn’t say was that none of them were fine. None of them were even able to act as if they were fine. 

“Okay, what are we doing about this then?”

Holding one pill and a new water glass in his hands, Winter walked back, concentrating very hard on not throwing anything at the genius. 

“Tony…”

“Let me talk to Thor. You know he-”

“You need to rest, Tony. Stephen said-”

Waiving his worries away, impatiently, Tony ignored, expertly, the pill and glass of water Winter held out for him and instead looked imploringly at the shadow of Captain America leaning against his bed.

“Yeah, I can rest later. We need to calm Clint, make Thor understand, get Rhodey under control – you called Peter, right?”

“Yes, Tony.”

“Good. He shouldn’t worry.”

For just a moment Winter mused if it would count as an attack if he cut of Tony’s air supply long enough to render him unconscious. Just to make sure he actually rested. He wouldn’t do it, of course. Tony would be angry with him and Winter didn’t want to take his choices away or hurt him. 

Still, the thought had something… comforting. 

“Where is Clint?”

“Natasha drugged him.” Steve said, nodding towards the hidden figure under the blankets.

“Is he still breathing?”

“He is, Sir.”

“Good. And Thor? The others?” There was an edge to his voice, again. “No one else was hurt, right?”

“No.” The Captain’s voice was almost toneless when he answered, not looking him in the eyes. “No one else was injured.”

“Good, that’s good.” Tony relaxed into the pillow, a tired smile appearing on his lips. “So why did Hydra shoot me?”

The Captain didn’t answer.

“According to an audio file they played and posted on various social media sites, and I quote ‘ _ We are plenty and our heads are everywhere. The world will fall before us and the first to fall is Tony Stark. _ ’” 

“They always had a flare for the dramatic, hadn’t they?”

“If you say so, Sir.”

Tony’s voice was casual, unconcerned. But he held the Captain’s hands. Moving his thumbs in circles over them. Calming the other man. Making sure he knew Tony was really there?

Winter was almost sure that if his feelings weren’t stuck in fog right now, he would be pissed about that. Like, really pissed. But they were. And he couldn’t do much more than watch, numbly, as Tony discussed the next steps with the AI, sending text messages and three emails. 

Thankfully, his body wasn’t healed enough to keep him awake much longer. That was a terrible thought, wasn’t it? But it was also true. As tired as he was, Tony didn’t fight Winter any longer. He accepted the pill, drinking some more water, before patting the mattress just beside him. 

The Captain hesitated. For about three seconds. Then he stood up, carefully arranging Tony, before laying down beside him, his arms tight around the genius, his cheek pressed to the dark locks. 

Both of them were asleep before Winter could figure out why both of them had looked equal parts happy and guilty.

Putting the half empty water glass down again. Winter moved noiselessly over to the couch, checking on Hawkeye. The archer was still asleep, his breathing even. 

Sitting down in the now empty armchair beside Tony’s bed, he leaned his head on his metallic hand, trying to figure out… everything. Why his feelings were all fuzzy and distant. Why Tony and the Captain seemed to be so close the one second and were fighting in the next? 

Why Earth’s Mightiest Heroes were falling apart because of nothing more than one bullet, when they had stopped an Alien Invasion. 

Letting his eyes wander back to Tony’s relaxed expression, Winter leaned back into the comfortable cushions. 

He was asleep before he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger? I must be getting sick! Then again, everyone is on edge and the question is not whether or not someone is going to break but when it will happen...
> 
> To survive - and because I’m getting sick of the Slow Burn myself - I posted another one shot. It’s fluff and fluff, a love revelation and more fluff. So if you need something sweet, try „Wrong Number“ 
> 
> Stay safe, sane and optimistic everyone!


	8. Tony: Ducklings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is finally awake. And because he is the brilliant man that he is, he manages to trample on the last nerves his fellow Avengers are trying to hold on to. 
> 
> He just wanted to help. Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> the very very attentive reader might see that I added a chapter to the count. Because this chapter took a left turn - so I had to cut it in two because... well, you'll see.
> 
> Shoutout to Jinxquickfoot, who left a lovely comment on 9.4 which I took the liberty to put in here. Thank you so much, my friend!
> 
> Enjoy!

Waking up, Tony knew this would become another long day. Or week. Probably month, if not year. If the way Steve had attached himself like an octopus to Tony was any hint at all, it would be a long decade. Tony had really messed up by getting shot. 

Of course, he would be able to make the Avengers agree that he was a capable member of the team – he was Iron Man after all – and they could stop hovering – just a little – to be fucking shot. Standing between all of them. 

God damnit.

And apparently, dying because of it. Or almost dying and being brought back. At least he wasn’t a Zombie – as far as he knew. Could Loki make him into a Zombie? Probably.

Back to the problem at hand – or rather around his whole body – the Avengers would never leave him alone again. They would probably never let him leave the Tower again.

Hell, the way Steve’s arms constricted Tony’s movements (and almost his breathing) he wasn’t sure he would be allowed to go alone into his bathroom again. 

Fucking hell, they would stalk him even more closely now, wouldn’t they? 

“Just kill me-” He mumbled, under his breath. But judging by the low, sleepy growl not low enough to not wake the second self-appointed bodyguard. Who obviously had been sleeping right beside them. Probably in an armchair or something. He couldn’t check, as he couldn’t move. Like at all. (Not that he wasn’t fucking  _ delighted _ to be held like this by Steve. It was a dream come true, if Tony was honest with himself. Which he wasn’t. Also, in that dream he wasn’t in pain, he didn’t feel like a twice drowned kitten and they were awake and naked. Oh shit. Hopefully his body hadn’t enough blood to react appropriately to that mental image.)

Winter’s face came into view and Tony couldn’t hold back the frown. Winter looked like shit. He had thought the same thing when he had woken up earlier today (most likely) and even if he didn’t look as terrible as Steve – which meant he looked exhausted, Steve could never look anything less than gorgeous – his expression and eyes were far closer to the Asset’s than Winter’s.

“Just an expression.” He murmured. Thankfully Steve was still asleep. He really didn’t have the energy to spare to fight with him again. 

“Did something happen?”

Winter frowned down on him before shaking his head.

“Would you tell me if something had happened?”

Winter hesitated before shrugging his shoulders.

At least he didn’t lie. Silver linings. Learn to see them. Keep looking for them. And if you don’t find them, lie like a motherfucker… he was probably high as a kite, right now. It would explain why he didn’t feel much pain, just a little pressure in his chest. On his-

“Jarvis?”

“Your Arc Reactor got hit, Sir, but Dr. Cho, Dr. Banner and I are certain it is not harming you. You will have to do some minor repairs, but you are safe for now, Sir.”

The spiking panic needed a few moments to lessen again. They had hit the Arc Reactor. As the cover was shatterproof the bullet must have lodged itself between his flesh and the casing sitting in his chest. 

Oh fuck.

“Jay?” He heard the lingering panic in his voice.

“You’re safe, Sir. If you want me to, I can ask Dr. Banner to come up here and confirm-”

“No, it’s fine.” Trying to calm down, trying to breathe, to not wake Steve, Tony kept his eyes on Winter’s chest. This was fine. Jarvis said so. Bruce said so. Sure, they had hit him where his stupid body was the most vulnerable, could have finally destroyed his lungs or his heart or-

“Are you-”

“It’s okay, Jay. I trust you.” He did. Jarvis would never risk him. Would never lie to him about his health. Hell, he was the one harping on Tony for being more careful, sleeping more, drinking more water and shit basically since his first week.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Moving his face as much as he could, he smiled up at one camera. 

Steve, even if not waking up, flexed his arms around Tony, not letting him go, but rearranging them on the bed in a way that gave Tony at least the opportunity to look around the room. And see Hawkeye, bleary eyed and yawning sitting up on the couch, looking like a grumpy duckling. 

“Good morning Birdbrain. I see I’m not the only one getting drugged when I’m annoying.”

Clint, still out of it, flipped him off, before his whole body stiffened. He turned his head, meeting Tony’s eyes, letting his roaming over Tony’s body.

“Tony.” The tone in his voice was something Tony wouldn’t try to name. He didn’t know enough about emotions to even have a chance. But it wasn’t anger. So that was something at least.

“I’m fine.”

Clint didn’t answer to that or Winter’s growl. It took him a minute to untangle himself from the blankets and stagger over to where Tony was thoroughly restrained by Captain Snuggles, reaching out with his hand and, hesitantly, grabbed Tony’s arm. 

“You-”

“I’m fine, Clint, I promise. No wish to serve anyone and no more megalomaniac tendencies than normal.”

Clint held his gaze a moment longer and Tony let all his walls fall. Let the archer see that it really was him. That, whatever Loki did, hadn’t messed with Tony’s mind – at least he didn’t think. That even though the figure out of Clint’s nightmares was back on earth, Tony wasn’t a mindless drone wanting to serve anyone or posing a threat to all of them and the world.

It took Clint almost five minutes to let his shoulders relax. When he did, he moved forward, pressing his forehead against Tony’s and exhaling harshly. “You asshole.”

“Morning breath, Birdbrain.” Tony huffed and Clint’s lips spread into a smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes just yet. 

“You’re not smelling like roses either, princess.”

“I was drugged out of my mind. What’s your excuse?”

“Same.”

“Lazy asshole.” Tony grinned, trying to wiggle himself free. Which resulted in Steve’s arms pressing down even harder. 

Before Tony could do so much as think that that was probably not good, Winter was already prying Steve’s arms away and Clint dragged him out of them. Which hurt. 

Even if Steve’s fearful yelp hurt more. 

“Relax, Cap, we’re trying to stop you from cuddling Iron Mom to dea- too hard.” Clint snapped. 

That wasn’t good.

Turning his head, he saw Winter had Steve in a chokehold, not hurting – most likely – but restraining the other super soldier, whose frantic eyes were on Tony.

“Sorry for waking you, Steve, I just wanted to go to the bathroom.”

“Sir-”

“Nope, don’t want to hear it Jay. Someone can help me, but I will go to the bathroom. I can pull the catheter on my own.”

“Dr. Cho will not be happy.”

“When is she ever happy with me?” He asked, smiling into the camera of his disapproving AI.

“Tony-” Steve started, moving forward, Winter allowed it, even if he stayed close.

“Just going to take a leak, Cap. And maybe a shower.”

“Sir!”

“Not showering, of course not. Would never even  _ consider  _ it.”

“Just shut up.” Clint growled into his ear, slinging Tony’s right arm over his shoulder and grabbing him securely around his waist. 

He moved them carefully from the bed to the ground and Tony would not admit, that they nearly took a nosedive right then and there if Steve hadn’t steadied them. He helped them towards the door of the bathroom, where Clint looked up at their Captain and raised one eyebrow. 

“I know you want to get Tony naked, but I think today is not that day, is it, Cap?”

“Who says-” Tony started, but was interrupted by the deep red blush on Steve’s cheeks – and the door Clint pushed close behind them, keeping both super soldiers out.

“What the hell?”

“Oh, come on.” Clint huffed. “You can’t tell me-”

“Agent Barton, I would think it pertinent to get Sir back to bed as soon as possible.”

Clint’s eyes snapped towards his hip, where he must have pushed his phone into his jeans pocket. 

“Sure, Jay.” He agreed easily, helping Tony to sit down on the toilet and rummaging through the cabinets while Tony got rid of the catheter (sadly, he had too much practical knowledge about it) and yelling through the door that the stalkers should get Tony and him some fresh clothes.

Tony wasn’t exactly sure how it happened – or why he let it happen for that matter – but a couple minutes later, he sat almost naked in the empty bathtub and let Clint rub him down with wet washcloths.

“Just so we’re clear, this is not going to be a regular thing, Iron Ass.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“You could show some form of appreciation here, asshole, I’m not playing nursemaid for just anyone!”

“The way I remember it is you kicked Steve and Winter out.”

“Would you prefer it if Steve-”

Even if it hurt to ram his elbow backwards into Clint’s side the pained hiss was worth it.

When Clint didn’t start to banter again – and Tony really couldn’t start thinking of where he was right now, and how easy it would be for the archer to- not that he would. Of course not, Tony trusted him. He would never- But-

“Breathe, Tony.” Clint murmured, lowly. “The Docs say you’re going to be fine.”

Forcing his breathing back under control, Tony looked over his shoulder, catching Clint’s eyes. “What about you?”

Clint stiffened. Averting his eyes, he resumed washing Tony. He helped him stand up. Helped him brush his teeth. Helped him with the dry shampoo. Helped him get into new clothes he had gotten from Steve, who had handed them over, and then pushed him out into Steve’s anxious arms, closing the bathroom door before either of them could say anything.

While Clint was most likely showering – and hopefully not planning to take revenge on Tony – he was presented with his next lost duckling. Quite literally. Winter, although as protective as ever, seemed off. Not like he had fully slipped back into Asset mode, more like he was in shock. Which was both unlikely and the best option Tony could come up with – and wasn’t that disturbing in and of itself? 

Letting himself be carried back to bed, Winter hovered right beside Steve. It spoke for Winter that he still let Steve touch Tony – not that he had a say in it, but he didn’t even try to stop Steve from reaching out – even if he had twice stopped the other super soldier from… not hurting Tony. Steve would never deliberately harm Tony. But apparently Winter wasn’t the only one in shock. 

Of course not. It was only a few weeks since Steve had learned about Winter. About Hydra still being around. Of course, he would think it was his fault that Tony got hurt again. It wasn’t. But if Tony understood anything, it was guilt. He would feel responsible if he was in Steve’s shoes. He would hate himself, thinking it was his fault. Not that he could have known. Or done anything.

Clint was, obviously, in shock too, having his tormentor here and everything. That made three. 

Thor was four. He had told Tony how much he loved his brother. How sorry he was. How much he hoped Loki would be able to atone himself. He had never said it, but he had wished for his earth family to get to know his brother. The man who had stood with Thor, who had been let astray and then brainwashed and controlled. He wouldn’t be in shock but suffering still. 

Peter was number five, only that low on his mental list, because the others were bigger threats to each other if they snapped. 

And then came the rest. Rhodey, Pepper and Happy would be… furious. They had just started to calm down, to relax again. Bruce and Nat had started to lessen their obvious hovering. Had started to calm down. 

That might never happen again. 

It wasn’t important right now. One crisis at a time. Right now, he had to try to manage the breakdowns of the Avengers. Which, for obvious reasons, was doomed to fail, but Tony, being the engineer of the group, wouldn’t give up without a fight. 

He would fix them. One way or another. And if that meant he would hire every last shrink on earth, he would do it. He would even talk to them too. 

And even after that there was still Loki, who Tony was dying to meet (he should probably not say that, even if it was funny). Until now he only knew his brainwashed version – also he needed to find out what was in all of this for the god. Thor would think he did it just as a favour to him, or as a reparation to Tony. Rhodey wouldn’t have cared what it would cost them if he was the only way to save Tony’s life. Clint, and most of the others, would believe it was part of a bigger plan for evil or at least mischief, him being the god of chaos and all. 

Having heard story after story about Loki, Tony knew he would have a goal in mind. But without getting a read on him, he couldn’t know what kind of goal. As it was right now, he seemed to behave himself. Which was good but didn’t mean anything. Tony could behave himself if he wanted it, too. And then turn around and raise havoc.

Not that he didn’t want Thor to be right. He did. But nothing in life was that easy. Especially not for Tony Stark.

While trying to get his thoughts straight – quite literally when Steve propped Tony up against his chest to help him eat some rice pudding – he observed Winter.

For all of about a minute, until the elevator doors opened, and Thor stepped onto the floor, his hands already raised before he saw Winter pointing his gun at him.

“At ease, my friend, I- Tony!” A relieved smile spread over his face, calming the storm in his eyes a little. “Your son informed me that you had woken up, but let me tell you, I am most glad to see you awake.”

“Thank you, Thor.” Tony smiled up at him, knowing he had about five to ten more minutes before Clint would join them. 

“I hear you’re the reason I’m still here on this mortal plane.” He winked at the god, trying to take away the sting while simultaneously telling him that Tony knew that without the god, he, apparently, would have been last week's news. 

Thor tensed, his eyes darkening again. “I did almost nothing, my friend.”

“You got the Avengers, Rhodey and Pepper to agree to let Loki heal me. Enjoy that feeling of power, Pointbreak, that’s as high as you can get.”

“You might be right, my friend.” Thor had moved to stand in front of his bed, his blue eyes exhausted and melancholic. “I hope you don’t feel like I betrayed your trust. I-”

Fuck. What had all these idiots done while he had been sleeping on his job?

“You could never, Pointbreak. You’re a goddamn golden retriever.”

“My brother-”

“You trust him. I know you would have never brought him here if you weren’t  _ sure _ that we were safe with him.” Tony was absolutely certain about that. It didn’t mean that he was right, just that Thor loved his brother. But he also loved the Avengers. And he was just too good to risk them on a whim. It also meant he would be more… suggestable to an act of innocence from his brother.

“Never.” There was heat behind the word. And the smell of ozone. 

“See, nothing to worry about, Thor. I trust you.”

Thor’s shoulders sagged. Relief, pure and almost painful to watch, flashed over his expression, his eyes glistening with something that couldn’t be tears, because there was just no way anyone could ever think  _ Thor  _ would betray them. What the fuck had happened?

The hope in Thor’s eyes was almost as painful as the confusion in Winter’s. Realizing he didn’t even know how much Winter knew about Loki, the whole megalomaniac episode of his and what he had done to the Avengers and especially Hawkeye. As he was clever and had learned to observe, he would have guessed a lot – but how would he be able to understand what was going on here when Tony, a certified genius, who had been there the whole time barely had a clue what was going on?

How did he end up in this position again? Ah yes, Hydra hadn’t finished their job. Twice. Speaking of people not finishing their jobs-

“Not that I want to sound ungrateful” – Winter snorted. At least he hadn’t lost all of his humour. Silver linings – “but I think your brother didn’t finish the healing schtick.”

“He didn’t.” Thor agreed, his forehead furrowing again in worry.

“Any reason for it?” Aside from keeping Tony bedridden and weak. Possible giving Loki more access to the Tower, the Avengers and Tony’s brain. 

“He said that healing was taxing on the body. Stephen agreed.” Steve mumbled into Tony’s ear and he had to bite back a shudder. (This wasn’t the situation he could give his brain any kind of leeway, absolutely not.)

“Okay, when does he come back? We need me back in working condition pronto.”

“Tony-”

“Hydra isn’t going to stop itself. Obviously. Although I don’t know why. They fail at everything else, if they actually  _ want _ to stay in business, they should have sabotaged themselves decades ago.”

“I’m not sure-”

“No, really think about it, they tried to take over the world how many times now and it never happened. They tried to kill me tw-”

Steve behind him flinched, Winter and Thor both growled and Clint, who must have just stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still wet and sticking up in every direction cursed, violently.

“What the fuck, Stark!”

“That was out of context-”

“No, it wasn’t.” Thor said, glaring at Tony (he didn’t look at Winter, if anyone would be able to find a way to use the Medusa-stare it would be him. Or Nat. Also, he could feel his heated stare almost melting one side of Tony’s face). 

He also didn’t turn around to see Steve’s reaction. Mostly because it would hurt – and Steve was clutching him tight to himself, as if Tony had threatened to throw himself out of the window. Which he hadn’t. Right now.

“First of-”

“No!” Clint growled, pointing aggressively at Tony, real fear not fully hidden behind rage. “You are  _ not _ trying to defend that fucking sentence, you asshole.”

Winter growled, lowly, almost agreeing.

“See! Winter is on my side!”

“What are you? Five?”

“Five times hotter than you.”

“That’s it! Thor, get your brother here so I can kick Birdbrain’s ass!”

Everyone stiffened. The air itself seemed to thicken with tension. Tony, because he was the well-adjusted adult that he was, knew  _ exactly _ how to react to that. Ignoring it altogether.

“Tony-”

“I know I’m hot, Steve, you don’t need to tell me” – not that he would, but Tony was making a point and his stupid brain had malfunctioned – “but aside from kicking Clint’s ass, I still have work to do. You don’t want to see my to-do-list, I’m telling you, I’m so far back on my deadlines even I get worried.”

“There was a malfunction in my systems, Sir. Your to-do-list was erased. And Miss Potts didn’t have time to write you a new one yet.”

“You’re killing me here, Jarvis.”

“Tony!” Steve hissed, harsh, as if in pain, his hands biting into his arms, before he let go. Still, Tony could feel Steve’s rigid body and the way he obviously held himself back from grabbing Tony and shaking him violently. Which was a good idea. Just because Winter would get between them again and one of those times, they would really get into it and he really didn’t want to remodel it again. Hell, the lower floors had  _ just _ been finished.

“You really are an asshole, Stark.” Clint growled. “Jay, call Bruce. He has to give Tony whatever Nat drugged me with or someone is going to smack him.”

The fact that Winter didn’t growl at that should be a warning to Tony. He ignored that too.

“I’m not sure that will be a long-time solution.” Thor muttered, darkly.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Clint growled, viciously, not even looking at Thor. That shit didn’t fly on Tony’s watch. No matter the reason.

“Winter, get your rules, I think Clint needs a reminder of what we’re allowed to do and how we speak to each other.”

Clint would have thrown himself at Tony if Thor hadn’t grabbed him around his chest, holding him back.

“Do not make light of our agony, Anthony.” 

Stiffening, Tony looked up in the god’s blue eyes, lightning seemed to flash in them. His face was hard and cold.

Fuck. 

“Let Clint go, will you, I’m sure he has a right to clock me one.” That elicited growls from all of them and Steve grabbed him more securely around the middle, pulling him even closer to Steve – which would be amazing under different circumstances. Like, without the others growling bloody murder around them and if Steve was into men… Which wasn’t the point of any of this.

Tony was just now realizing how much he was talking about death without thinking about it. This was going to be difficult even if he would try to not be difficult. And whether or not he would try that was still up for discussion. (Who was he kidding. He couldn’t not be difficult.) 

Thor let go of Clint, who stepped aside, not acknowledging Thor and no, that really couldn’t happen. Yes, he was hurt and panicking, and Tony would never fault him for that because, fuck, Loki was back on earth and potentially turning one of them against the others – or two, if you counted Thor – but he still couldn’t punish Thor just because-

Bruce used that moment to step out of the elevator, saving all of them from whatever brilliant ideas Tony’s brain would come up with next.

Looking around, Bruce sighed. “What did he do?”

Using his chance, Tony pouted, crossing his arms carefully in front of his chest. “I’m hurt, Bruce!”

“Yes, I know that. Do you know that Tony?”

Great, Bruce was already in a mood. And not even a Hulk-mood. Because Hulk would be nice to his Tin Man. Probably. And of course, they all were in a mood. Not only had Tony let himself get shot again, Hydra was back – again. And by now, all of them would be pissed with them. And all of them would feel guilty because none of them had done enough to get rid of them in the first place – and that was Tony’s fault as well. If the others wouldn’t have felt (and fucking rightly so and wasn’t that the worst of the worst of the worst) that they couldn’t leave poor helpless Tony alone, they would have been able to stop Hydra.

Hell, if Tony wasn’t as useless as he was, he would have been able to help. But he had let the others coddle him. Had let them stop him from working. He hadn’t even been able to find bring_the_world_down_with_sparks – and that he should have been able to do drugged, out of it while lying on the couch. 

Good job, Stark. 

“Words hurt, Bruceybear.”

“Oh, do fucking tell, asshole.” Clint hissed, viciously.

“Clint-”

“No, Steve, just because you can’t tell him how you feel, that doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.” Stalking forward, his eyes were boring down into Tony’s and just for a fluttering heartbeat he felt like a little mouse looking up at a Hawk, knowing there was no way to run.

“We love you, Tony. This messed us up. Worse than it did you, probably. So have the fucking  _ courtesy  _ to fucking shut up.”

Hell.

Biting down, Tony kept his mouth shut. Mostly because he just knew whatever would come out of his mouth would only make everything worse.

This plan evaporated about three seconds later when Clint started to look even worse.

“I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, this will get better.
> 
> Also, I can't wait to write the meeting between Tony and Loki. And I'm so damn nervous about it too...
> 
> As always: your comments give me life; stay safe, sane and optimistic my lovely readers!


	9. Tony: Miracles have a Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Loki finally meet - and of course they discuss world domination plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my lovely readers, 
> 
> this week was... polite words really can't express it. 
> 
> I hope we can all take a small break this weekend.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’m sorry.”

The words hung heavy between all of them, and Tony hoped they wouldn’t ask what he was sorry for. He didn’t want to tell them. He didn’t want to- 

Clint nodded. Once. Hard. His shoulders relaxed. Just a little bit. 

Steve moved behind him, pressing his forehead down on Tony’s shoulder. Moving closer still.

“What happened was not your fault.” Bruce’s eyes were certain. As if this was a proven scientific fact. “But we  _ all _ could deal with this more… maturely.”

“Not it.” Clint said in the same moment as Tony. Neither of them could stop the grin. Even if it wasn’t as big as it normally would have been. It was there. He didn’t hate Tony. (He had also said he loved him, but as he had almost screamed it, the signals were a little mixed.)

Bruce rolled his eyes a fond, even if strained, smile on his lips. “Yes, mature like that.”

Everyone relaxed. Just a little. But at least the air didn’t feel any longer as if Tony was suffocating. That could actually also be because Steve’s arms had loosened his hold on him a little. Whatever.

“Don’t set yourself up for failure, Brucey bear, it’s not going to get any better.” Tony winked at him. “Not to piss anyone off again, but when am I going to be healed?”

“Are you in pain?”

He made a dismissive hand gesture. “Helen has put me on the good stuff, I’m f-” turning to Winter he held up his index finger, stopping the growl before he could make it “not hurting.” 

Winter glared; his arms crossed in front of him. His eyes cold and hard. Winter was still in them, there were still flashes of him, so Tony was confident – praying to every existing or not existing deity – that he would be fine. He would be. He had to be. There was just no way that Tony would have been able to fuck up this bad already, was there?

New plan. He had to get his family back on track. This, all of this was his fault – Hydra did help with the whole kidnapping, brainwashing Winter and shooting him, but at the end of the day it was his fault. He should have  _ known _ . He should have focused more on finding Sparks. He should have focused more on finding more sleeper cells. Hell, he should have left the fucking Tower. He should have- 

“Tony?”

He blinked up in Bruce’s warm, brown eyes. There was worry in them he wouldn’t voice with everyone around – something he loved and also hated about the other genius, because he didn’t voice it out of fear the others might not value his input. Or that Tony wouldn’t want him to and what? Hate him? As if Tony could ever hate his science bro. As if the Avenger ever could. Sure, Tony might be annoyed when Bruce ratted him out about not eating, sleeping or shit, but he could never hate him.

Back to the new plan. He needed to fix his family. At least as much as he could – which, granted wouldn’t be much at all – but they needed at least to be functional. They had just survived an almost public execution – and he didn’t even meant the little shooting he survived, but the way the media had gone after the Avengers after the whole Hydra-tried-to-take-over-the-world-debacle. They couldn’t have another scandal. 

That meant that they couldn’t hide here. It also meant that Tony needed to get out into the world again as soon as possible – and he was already frustrated with the fight all of them would have because of it. Maybe he could have Pepper or Jenny fight that one, while he … what? Hiding sounded good, but he would never do that. 

Back to the problem at hand: He had broken the Avengers. Again. Or Hydra had done it but used him as a tool. Why him? Not that he wasn’t glad that he was the target and the rest relatively safe, but it didn’t make sense. Aside from his obvious value there was no reason to go after him. Steve was their leader. Without him they wouldn’t be able to work. 

Sure, it made sense that they wouldn’t go after the Hulk or Thor. Actually, it also made sense to not go after Nat. But Clint? Okay, he would probably be hard to kill, too… but it would be possible. 

Hell, Steve should have been their target! Not, that he wanted them to go after Steve, fuck no! But he had been a thorn in their side long before Tony was even born! He was an icon. He was the face of the Avengers. If they wanted to make a statement, the world would be devastated when he would be killed. Sure, Tony had some fans – most of them disturbed if his previous experiences were anything to go by – but most of the world would ever be glad and applaud them for getting rid of him or not care at all. 

The only thing Tony could come up with was the fact that he had superior tech-skills. He was one if not the best hacker, especially with Jarvis help. And they could boast about succeeding where everyone else had failed before. But that was just a numbers-gamble. One day someone would take him out. Maybe just because of dumb luck. 

Back to the fucking problem at hand that he tried to avoid like a freaking expert: he needed to find a way… somehow… to fix the people around him enough so that they would be able to fix themselves. And/or he needed to get every shrink here to make all of them tick again – although Tony was almost sure the Avengers would break the shrinks long before they would ever have a chance to try to fasten the loose screws, they all had. Hell, Nat could kill all of them. Literally and metaphorically.

“Tony.” Bruce's voice had a disapproving tone in it now. He would have guessed at least a little from what Tony had thought about. Great minds think alike and all that shit. Bruce also had a guilt complex big enough to rival Tony’s. And he knew him. 

Smiling up at the other scientist, Tony tried to stay relaxed. Ignoring the way everyone else seemed to stiffen. 

First things first. If he wanted to stop all of them to kill each other he most likely needed to get at least half of them out of here before Dumbledore and Reindeergames showed up. While planning that he could (maybe) get them to do something useful, like focusing on themselves. Or getting Hydra. 

“Is Luca still in the country?”

Clint’s face darkened dangerously. “Why?”

“Why would Hydra focus on me? If this is about revenge, why not focus on Winter? Why not focus on all of us? Why did they only shoot me? Why not Steve? Why do they need to make sure  _ I _ am out of the picture?”

“You-” Steve started, but Tony just petted his arm, leaning a little forward, letting his eyes bore into Clint’s.

“I couldn’t find a hint of Sparks. Neither could Jarvis. Although I’m sure she was the one getting their message out, am I right, Jay?”

“…you are, Sir.”

“So, what have they planned with her or the internet that they have to get rid of me before? Also, if they  _ really  _ wanted to get rid of me, why not use a bomb? Why not-” A hand clamped over his mouth, shutting him up. Steve’s body was rigid behind him. 

“Tony.” Steve’s voice was nothing more than a whimper and Tony’s heart seized. It did. He didn’t want to hurt them anymore, but they needed to look at this logically. They needed to find out  _ why  _ Hydra had done this. Was it just a scare tactic? And if so, why not kill all the Avengers who were killable? 

Leaning back into Steve’s embrace, letting the soldier feel his beating heart, his steady breathing, letting him make sure Tony was still alive, he looked up at Clint. He wasn’t as pragmatic as Nat, but close enough. He would understand. And he did. 

The stone mask on his face was enough to get the point across. And that he hated it. 

“What are you saying?”

Steve behind him shuddered, pressing closer. The way he was clinging to Tony, he was surprised Steve hadn’t imprisoned all of the Avengers by now. He seemed too distraught to be able to let any of them get away right now. On the other hand, Tony wouldn’t try to stop Natasha either if she wanted to leave. 

Reaching up, Tony pushed Steve’s hand aside, knowing full well he wouldn’t have a chance if Steve really didn’t want it. But Steve would never do that. He would never use his strength like that. 

“If I was in their position, right now, after having to speed up my plans because of one or two people finding out, being almost fully defeated in a battle, having lost most of my resources and accomplices and leaders, my focus wouldn’t be on revenge. Sure, I wanted them to die, but my focus has to lay on either a backup plan that has to change the landscape  _ drastically _ ” – like a nuclear attack. Like an attack with biological or chemical weapons that would erase at least half of the people working against his cause, preferably with a cure for those who would follow him. How many people, how many governments would (could) refuse to bow down to them in that scenario? – “or I would hide everyone and everything that I could still use and wait for the right opportunity.”

“But they didn’t.” Thor said, his brows furrowed.

“Can we be sure of that?”

Bruce crossed his arms, his face set in stone, eyes ablaze with fury. But thankfully, they were still brown. “What’s your theory?”

“I’m not sure.” He wasn’t. He just knew that Hydra had survived for seventy years in the shadows. He knew that they had been powerful and influential enough to destabilize most of America’s government and mess with a lot of European countries in a similar manner. You didn’t get that much pull without planning. Without brilliant thinkers. Without knowing what to do and when. It was implausible to think that they got all or even most of those people. 

“It doesn’t make sense for them to go after me just because of revenge.”

“They wanted to send a statement.” Steve whispered from behind him. “They know we need you.”

The words tugged at Tony and he wanted to believe them. But it didn’t make sense. It wouldn’t matter who they killed of the Avengers. They would always go after whoever dared to hurt one of their own and kill them. (And right now they actually couldn’t even be sure they wanted to kill Tony just yet. Why wouldn’t they have used a headshot? Why shoot at his chest? They had to know the Arc was protected. If they send an assassin after him, in a public setting like that, why not make sure to kill him and aim for the head?)

If they wanted to destabilize them, they should have gone after Steve. The only logical reason to go after Tony was if his skill set would be dangerous to their plan. 

“You think they will pick us off one by one?” Clint asked, his voice a deathly cold in it.

“In that case why not just take us out all at once? Actually, that’s the only logical thing to do. They had the perfect opportunity. Why didn’t they?”

Steve shuddered again and Tony grabbed his hand, pressing down on it, reassuringly.

“They knew they wouldn’t be able to kill us.” Bruce muttered, nodding to Thor and himself.

“But how effective would we be without our fellow teammates?” Thor asked, electricity dancing over his skin. “You wouldn’t be the only one lost to a mindless rage, my friend.”

“If played correctly, they could have instrumentalized this to make the other teams focus on you and not them.” Clint muttered.

Before Tony could answer, Winter stepped forward. His expression was lifeless enough to almost frighten Tony – especially since he knew how the other man looked when he was smiling happily.

“Yes, Buttercup?”

He lifted his hand and tapped his shoulder where his metal arm was wired into his body and then shook his head, once.

It took Tony a moment to guess what he meant. “They’re sadistic assholes?”

Winter nodded.

“Sure, they are, Buttercup, but-” it made sense to torture you with the arm. No. He couldn’t say that. He couldn’t. Also, who would Hydra torture by just taking out Tony?

“They might not be as clever as you, friend Tony.”

“No one is, Thunderboy, but they have been able to stay hidden for-”

Without warning a magical lightshow happened right in their midst, forming a glowing circle. Fuck. Dumbledore was early.

Tony looked at Hawkeye, Clint having lost the building seconds ago.

“Go to Nat. Try to find out-”

“No.”

“Yes. Go.”

“No.”

Tony looked back at Clint. He saw the resolve. Saw the tightening of his muscle. Saw the way he readied himself for an attack. To protect. To fight. But he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to put himself through this. He didn’t need to torture himself. 

“Please.” It was a dirty trick – and they all knew it. Still, Tony let some of his masks slip for just a second. Let Clint see his resolve. That he didn’t want him to hurt himself just for Tony. He had Steve, Winter, Bruce, Thor, Jarvis and Strange would most likely stop someone killing Tony, too – if only to hold it over Tony’s head.

Clint tensed even further. It was enough for Tony to put his masks back up. Loki was about to step out of the portal and there was no way he would let him see more than absolutely necessary. 

Clint glanced behind Tony, most likely checking with Steve, before he glanced to the side to Thor, acknowledging his presence for the first time today. “Keep him safe.”

“I swear on my life.” Thor said, his voice solemn. It didn’t matter that he thought his brother wouldn’t hurt Tony. He would protect him. Tony knew that. And Clint knew that too.

The moment he turned was the same moment Loki stepped out of the glowing circle, the Sorcerer Supreme on his heels. 

“You still don’t know what doors are, do you, Dumbledore?”

“Stark.” Stephen acknowledged, with a long-suffering sigh. “It was rather pleasant while you were unconscious.”

“You always say the nicest things, Strange.” Looking away from the wizard, Tony met the green eyes of Loki. They reminded him of Nat’s, when she was at her most dangerous. But he had seen that expression in his own eyes before, too. Calculating. Formulating plans. Not trying to hide your intelligence. Just waiting to let the other person fall into the traps you laid out for them. 

Last time they had stood face to face, his eyes had been blue. They had been cunning, sure, but they had also been clouded. They weren’t any longer. 

“I have a question, Reindeergames.” 

Loki nodded, almost submissive, if it weren’t for the smile in the corner of his mouth and the glint in his eyes.

“Now, in control of your own, if I had blown up your plan to take over the world, your resources mostly depleted, almost all allies or underlings out of the game, what would you do?”

Steve had started tensing the second Tony had started talking, most likely anticipating what he would do – and apparently, he hadn’t disappointed. Yeay. 

Winter had moved closer, growling lowly. 

Both Bruce and Stephen looked resigned to their fate – which was really disrespectful. They were fellow scientists – if you allowed Stephen and his wet science in the holy world that was science, but as he had saved him like yesterday, he might be lenient this once – and Thor frowned unhappily. 

Loki’s eyes had lit up with humour. 

“I take it you’re talking about Hydra?”

Tony just smiled, ignoring all the other reactions.

“If I were in the situations Hydra was in, I would have either a fallback plan, which would have been activated the second I would have seen my chances of success were slipping. If I hadn’t, I would take my time to formulate a plan. There would be the thirst for revenge, of course, but even if you were the first domino to fall, and if so I would make certain, you would not have a chance to get back up again, I would not let a perfect opportunity slip through my fingers and not kill Earth Mightiest Heroes in one swift move.”

Tony smiled, mirroring the beginning of the sharp one he could see in Loki. 

“A swift move just for the Avengers or more something big, like taking out half of the country? Possibly with showing  _ mercy _ to my followers?”

Loki’s smile grew. “In that case, I would take out people and let the Avengers live. Make the people kill them for me.”

“Dramatic, but not practical. They could also build a fighting force behind them.”

“Not if I make their survival and the survival of their children hinging on whether or not they kill the Avengers.”

Tony laughed, oh this was fun – as long as he ignored Winter’s growl, the way Steve held onto him with bruising force or the disapproving way the others looked at him. 

“That only works if you proved you can do it.”

“Or if I proved how cruel their deaths would be if they didn’t try for that. And, more importantly, would the Avengers really not sacrifice themselves to safe  _ children _ ?”

Tony’s smile grew wider, showing teeth. “We are all self-serving egomaniacs. It might be more important to stop you. If our kids can’t live free, they might as well die.”

Steve behind him went rigid, Winter actually hissed, while Bruce’s eyes flashed green and the air around Thor crackled with electricity. Stephen seemed borderline disinterested. 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Better to die standing than to live kneeling.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Tony’s smile grew darker. “As I told you last time we met, there is no throne. There is no version where you come out on top. Because if we can’t save the world you can be damn sure we will avenge it.”

“I remember.” Loki held up his hands, in a literal show of hands. “The question you need to answer in this is simple, then.”

Tony leaned back, nodding. “Your best guess?”

“I’m not familiar enough with-”

“Cut the crap. You know.” Because he had been in Tony’s head, he was almost sure. Also, Loki would have tried to find out anything he could about the situation. Knowledge was power after all. Especially for a trickster and someone who knew the political game – and as a prince he would be well versed in it. 

“They want to shape the world in their beliefs.”

“Yes, a first grader knows that. What else?”

Loki tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. Still, both Winter and Steve reacted. Winter stepped in front of them, a knife out, while Steve tried to protect him with his arms, probably hating the fact that he was behind Tony right now. 

Neither Tony nor Loki let themselves be stopped by their baseless panic, though. Or at least Tony was pretty sure it was baseless. Not that he wouldn’t ground Peter forever if he would argue like that. 

“You think they aren’t out for revenge?”

“Oh, sure they are, but other people have done more to stop them than me.”

Loki tilted his head a little more. “But they didn’t embarrass them like you did.”

“If I have a goal, I won’t let myself be stopped by revenge.”

“Why not?” Loki asked, a real curiosity behind his words. “The other person has deserved it for crossing you. To make sure your enemies fear you, you might need to make sure everyone knows what will happen to them if they stand against you.”

“It’s illogical. They will fear me when I succeed. They will fear me when I kill their heroes, snuffing out their hope again and again.”

“But we are stubborn.” Steve’s voice was hard. Almost as hard as his grip. “We won’t stop fighting.”

“Won’t you?” Loki looked away from Tony’s eyes, probably meeting Steve’s.

“Never. We might stumble. We might hesitate. But we will  _ never _ stop fighting.”

“Good point.” Tony nodded, leaning back a little more. “So, we have to decimate the people enough to make sure they aren’t a threat.”

“This is still a theoretical discussion, right?” Stephen asked, his face absolutely expressionless. “Because if not, I might have to take you back to the Sanctum, Stark.”

“In that case, it’s 100% theoretical. Just getting some inside in a probably formally disturbed mind.”

“Your ideas are serviceable, Mr. Stark.” Loki smiled, kindly. “I’m sure you would have as good a chance as myself to take over this world.”

“I think it would be best if you would take both of them back to the Sanctum, Stephen, but please, make sure they can’t plan together.” Bruce said, sighing, before moving closer. “As fun as that has been, how about we let them start the healing.”

“We still haven’t heard your ideas.” Tony pouted, keeping his expression calmer than he would have normally. 

“Surprisingly, I don’t have any.”

“None?” Tony asked, with mock surprise.

“No one has, Stark.” Stephen sighed. “That is exactly the reason why people think it was your coup.”

“In that case, I would feel slighted, in your place, Mr. Stark. You would be far more successful.”

“Please, brother, do not encourage him.” Thor sighed, as if he had feared something like this would happen. Which was ridiculous. 

“I would think complimenting others was polite, brother.”

“Not on their world domination plans.”

“Earth rules are confusing.”

“I’m with Reindeergames on that.”

“Tony…” Steve sighed, heavily.

“What? Ask Winter, rules of society don’t make any-”

“Steve, get up, please.” Bruce ordered, ignoring Tony altogether. The vein throbbing on his temple was a good indicator it would be clever to follow his instructions. As Steve was cleverer than Tony when it came to all of this, he did get up, moving Tony as minimally as he could, stepping just far enough to have technically let go of Tony.

Loki took a step closer, raising one hand.

“Stop.”

Everyone froze.

“Are you all just standing there while Elsa is going to heal me, seriously? This is going to be boring as hell.”

“Tony.”

“No, seriously, I don’t think-”

“Tony!”

“Come on, Steve, he hasn’t tried to kill me while I was-

**“** _ Tony _ !”

“If I might, Stark?” Loki didn’t really wait long enough for anyone to answer him, but his eyes were on Tony in a way that made it clear, he would shut up if his opinion wasn’t wanted. Loki most likely wasn’t someone to give out free advice – and why would he be?

“Your family cares enough about you to work with a sworn enemy to save you. It might be appropriate to not make it harder on them then it has to be.”

Holding his gaze, Tony tried to read the god. Was he right? Absolutely. But why the hell would he say that? To spare his brother? He would be the one most comfortable with the situation. Was he trying to gain brownie points with the others? It could be a good strategy to make them like him better. Although it was quite obvious – something he wouldn’t do? Or was it a double bluff?

Then again, why saying anything at all if he could let them fight.

(Tony was not even going to think about the actual thing he had said.)

“Something you have experience with, I suppose.”

Loki didn’t blink, his expression didn’t change. There was nothing Tony could point at that was proof for his certainty, deep down, that Loki actually tried to communicate something here right now.

“I’m blessed with a family that cares about me, too.” The way his back straightened and he did not look away, almost tilting his body farther away from Thor was the only reason Tony believed him right now. This was an olive branch or a trick.

“And you never wished, even knowing what they would do for you, to get some of the freedom back that being alone gave you?”

“It’s an honour to be thought of high enough that those who love you make sacrifices for you. Such as caring more for you than chasing glory in battle.”

So, he did know about the media backlash the Avengers had faced because they had been holding his hand instead of fighting Hydra. That meant he most likely knew everything else, too.

“What do you honour?”

For just a second deep emotions blazed in his green eyes – ones Tony could almost name – but just a heartbeat later, Loki looked calm and collected again. “A great man that my brother loves like his family. What do you honour, Mr. Stark?”

“A liar saying the truth.”

“Anthony-” Thor started, anger in his voice, but Loki stopped him with holding up a hand.

“Because a liar knows the value of truth while an honest man doesn’t think he has an option.”

Tony smiled his Merchant of Death Smile™. “Like a villain deciding to do something good.”

“One good act doesn’t mean anything in the greater scheme of life.”

“No, it doesn’t. But that is the brutal thing about free will, isn’t it, Mr. Odinson, we all have to decide every day anew that we will do the right thing. Whatever that might be.”

Loki stared into his eyes, not letting anything slip past his impenetrable mask of calm. Then, he nodded. Once, before looking away, meeting Thor’s eyes.

“You were right, brother.”

Thor seemed lost for a moment, before a brilliant smile split his face, lifting most of the heavy guilt and fear off of him. Before he could say anything, Loki turned back to Tony.

“Might I start now?”

“Sure, get healing, Snowflake.” Tony lied back on the pillows – that weren’t half as comfortable as Steve. It was almost cold without him, warming Tony. Stopping the shivers he held back. Also, without him there to hold him (which Tony wouldn’t even acknowledge) his stomach did backflips. Fucking weak and stupid physiology. 

“It will be more effective if I touch you.”

“Everything about the belt is okay.” Winking, Tony ignored Steve’s groan that could have been a growl – but Tony wasn’t that lucky.

“I will remember that.” There was a smile in his words that Tony would have to keep in mind. The god might have seen more in his thoughts than he wanted him to know – not that he wanted him to know anything.

Reaching out slowly, probably more so to save his own skin from being shot, stabbed or punched to a pulp by the Hulk, Loki reached out to place his cold hand on Tony’s arm. The magic starting to mingle with his body was – in a freaky way – familiar. Something Tony hated almost as much as the fact that he was touched by fucking magic. 

Raising an eyebrow, Loki waited for Tony to probably tell him to go fuck himself – but he wouldn’t. Not only couldn’t he do that to Thor, Rhodey or any of them, he needed to get better pronto. No matter what it would cost him. 

Because miracles like this always had a price. The Arc Reactor in his chest was a miracle too. And he was paying the price every second of every day. 

Having been blessed with getting a second chance had been a miracle. One he sometimes still wished he hadn’t survived – even if it had been worth it, paying that price still hurt worse than the chronic pain of the Arc Reactor.

Opening his eyes that must have closed involuntarily, he met Lokis’s green eyes. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He met Tony’s eyes and then let his eyes flicker down to Tony’s stomach. Where, judging by feeling alone, he would have a new impressive bruise.

Tony barely indicated a head shake when Loki was looking at him again, but the deepening frown was answer enough.

“Everything okay?” Steve’s voice was terse and even closer now.

Tony turned towards him, smiling up at the super soldier, who was so out of it because Tony had fucked up again, that he didn’t even have his strength under control. Something he didn’t have any problem with before Tony decided to let Hydra use him as a practice target.

“Everything is fine-”

Winter growled, low and threatening.

“You’re already taking his side, Buttercup?”

“Whether or not something is wrong with your health? Absolutely.” Stephen said, not even looking up from the book he was reading on the armchair he had placed close enough to probably feel Loki’s magic. Or however this hocus-pocus bullshit worked.

“Brother?” Thor stepped beside his brother, his eyes on Loki’s hand on Tony’s arm. “Is something wrong?”

Looking into Tony’s eyes for a second longer, his frown vanished, leaving back a relaxed expression. “It must have been something from the rather impressive invention in his chest.”

“Just stay away from it.” Without meaning it, Tony’s words had been sharper. Instead of commenting, Loki nodded, accepting both. The lie and the truth woven into it.

“Of course.”

The tingling where Tony knew Steve had held onto him a little too desperately, promised that Loki would take care of them. Good. There was absolutely no way for Tony to explain them otherwise.

Two hours later, Tony had to agree with Loki and Dumbledore. Healing was fucking taxing on the body. He was barely able to keep his eyes open. And that was a fucking problem. He had to work. He had to find Sparks, the rest of the Hydra agents, trying to fix the Avengers – and he hadn’t had any possibility to talk with Rhodey, Pepper or Peter yet – who would definitely kill him.

“You should rest, Mr. Stark.”

Tony looked up at Loki, not sure whether he could read minds – which would be a  _ huge  _ problem or whether he was just that obvious. That would also be a problem. 

“I did rest.”

“Healing is taxing on-”

“Body, yes I heard.”

“Your body needs time and rest. After all, everything comes from something.”

Looking up at the trickster, he met his yes, trying to stay awake enough to get every possible meaning of what the other could possibly hide in his words. 

“Even miracles?”

“Magic is just a more advanced form of science.”

“So, everything has a price?”

Loki blinked once, before nodding. “Yes. Everything has a price.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Loki and Tony? I'm not 100% sure where I want to take this, so your theories will be greatly appreciated - not that I not ALWAYS appreciate them!
> 
> Also: thanks for all the lovely comments, they really mean the world to me!
> 
> Please, if you can, stay safe, sane and optimistic. 
> 
> (That seems like a hard task to me too, right now, but we can do it, I know it!)


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